The Opal and the Genie
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Zelda is in love with handsome and charming Jeremy, yet her chances to be with him seem ruined when she is forced into an arranged marriage with the Desert War hero Link Knight.In attempts to win her heart, Link tells her stories gathered from his adventures.But can he convince her to accept him as her husband before it's too late and Zelda's 'true' love re-enters into the picture?
1. The Unwanted Hero

**Quick Author's Note: Please excuse the cheesy beginning. I did it to make a point and also because my poor sister watches too much soap opera. It was to get her attention so I could tell her what I want her to hear: that she has the power to choose and the freedom to be herself.**

**Thanks.**

The Opal and the Genie

By LoweFantasy

Dedicated to my little sisters who I grew up telling bedtime stories too. Now that I'm moved out, I thought they would like to have a few old fairytales to read when life gets rough-as well as a love story, of course.

Chapter 1: The Unwanted Hero

Princess Zelda of Hyrule giggled as a dark haired young man picked straw from her hair. She could feel the happy blush across her face and it served to just excite her more. With his hands still intertwined with hair and straw, the dashing soldier leaned around to face her with his deep brown eyes smoldering. The heat in that simple glance took her breath away.

"Ah, princess," he sighed, his voice breathy with his passion, "your hair is like unto spun gold, yet as soft as silk. Would you forgive me for wanting to bury myself within it and cling to you forever?"

"Jeremy!" she exclaimed in shock, though her insides squirmed with pleasure, "that is very forward of you."

"Not as forward as the past few minutes, princess. Must I bring forth evidence of it?" and he brought back his hand from her head, holding up a stalk of straw. Putting the straw into his mouth, he leaned forward even closer and proceeded to tickle her face with it, sending her into even more giddy peals of giggling. Her heart was fluttering in her breast in a way she knew it could never do for anyone else. The farther she pulled away the more he bent over her till she was back on her back in the straw and he hovered a mere few inches above her, a devilish smirk on his face. He let the straw drop to the side.

"Shall I continue to demonstrate my forwardness?"

At that moment the door below them opened up with a bang, sending the horses into a brief fit of whinnies and snorts. Jeremy froze.

"Princess Zelda! Princess Zelda, are you in here? Princess?"

Zelda groaned. She couldn't help it. It was hard enough getting alone time with Jeremy as it was, so this was bound to happen sooner or later. But it had just been getting good!

Jeremy bounded off of her as silently as possible into a pile of hay behind them. She quickly made sure to cover whatever patches of him that still showed with hay as she said loudly: "Yes! I'm here! What is it, Impa?"

She barely had time to put on a nonchalant look before Impa, her nursemaid and perpetual guardian, came clumping up the ladder in all her armored glory. The shiekah's red eyes examined her warily.

"Princess, what are you doing in the stables alone and covered with hay? This is the third time this month."

"Oh, you know Impa, just taking a nap. This is the only peace and quiet I can get away from the castle, and the sound of the horses calms me."

The great woman didn't seem to buy it. To Zelda's anxiety she thought she saw her sharp eyes fall upon the hay pile where Jeremy hid. Fortunately, Impa didn't press further and proceeded to go back down the ladder.

"Your father wants to see you. If you please, princess, try your best to make yourself presentable. I will be waiting by the door to escort you there."

The command in her tone was unmistakable. As she frantically ran her fingers through her hair, raining herself with bits of straw, she had the overwhelming urge to laugh. There was a wild daring in the knowledge of Jeremy being just behind her. He didn't dare say a word of good-bye, however, as she left down the loft and to Impa, who curtly brushed off the back of her.

"You would do well," she whispered as she did so, almost too soft for even Zelda to hear, "to not demean yourself or your station so by frolicking with young men in animal pens."

Whatever cloud of heaven she had been on vanished beneath her and she came crashing down to earth with an awful thud. She felt cold as Impa took her hand and led her out of the stable. The door creaked shut behind them. The imposing woman didn't say another word all the way up to the castle, and somehow that was even worse than if she had scolded Zelda the entire way. But that was how Impa showed her disappointment. She wasn't one for long, chastising rants. Where before elation bubbled forth there now grew a sizzling shame she did not understand. Why should she be ashamed? She was in love! How was love shameful?

Yet, despite her efforts to force the logic upon her conscience, the humiliation had still not left when they had arrived at the door to her father's study. Impa knocked.

"Enter."

She didn't let go of her hand until Zelda was inside and firmly situated in front of the king. The king himself was a tall, broad shouldered man with a strong jaw and frame that spoke of much strength once upon a time. But the years had not been kind to him, turning his hair and beard silver and lining his face. Neither had the delicious royal cookery.

"Thank you, Impa. Now please, if you'd just wait outside the door. Zelda will be right out."

Impa nodded and exited. Zelda traced her foot on the floor. She had a faint fear that her father knew as much as Impa had guessed, and the thought made her insides squirm uncomfortably. Taking a deep breath she tried to focus on the point of her slipper running along the triangles in the marble tile. Up, black, down, white, up, black, down, white…

"Is something the matter, Zelda? There is no need to look so. I didn't call you here for a scolding. You've done nothing wrong."

She straightened, forcing her foot still with a silent sigh of relief. So he didn't know. She returned her father's kind smile.

"Oh, that's good. It's just not very often you call me to your study like this, father. It sounds like you had Impa scouring the whole castle for me."

"Indeed I did. Forgive me, but I was just so excited I wanted to tell you right away! You know how I get." He chuckled. "Had to chase you down and share my good news with you right away! Though I could never tell if your mother was amused or annoyed with that part of me." The king shrugged his huge shoulders.

"I think it's cute." said Zelda.

"Thank you. I hope your mother thought so too. Bless her soul."

They bowed their heads and allowed a brief moment of silence in memory of her.

"She was a wonderful queen, but an even more wonderful wife. I hope I've impressed that on you as you've grown, my daughter, for I am hoping that you may find that same happiness that I found with her. Though our time was short I would trade nothing for Vivian's companionship."

For some odd reason she had a tickling feeling in the back of her mind that wherever her father was going with this, she wouldn't like it. She tried to focus more on her father but as he started she found herself wandering back to a few minutes ago in the straw with Jeremy. Yes, companionship. The thought of being with Jeremy forever, and not just in the rare stolen moments in the hay or in some abandoned tower, gave her chills of delight. Could such heaven be legal?

When she took a peer out of her giddy daydreams for just a moment she found her father beaming at her as though about to explode with pride. Her confusion flashed into horror with his next words.

"Which is why I have arranged for you to be married!"

The image of Jeremy's devilish grin in her head shattered. She gaped at her overjoyed, huge father.

"_Married?"_ Please let her have heard wrong. "To whom?"

"A hero, my dear. A wonderful man. He's all I could ever dream of for you and will make a fine son-in-law." He stopped, becoming alarmed with her reaction. "My dear, what's the matter? I promise to you that you will be pleased with him too. He's very, very handsome. He's—"

"I don't care! No! No!"

"No? Are you saying you won't marry him?"

"Yes." Zelda turned her face away. "I refuse."

"But you don't even know him yet—"

"All the more reason."

The king's expression was darkening. Whatever silly excitement had been there before leaked away with the disapproving frown.

"This is quite sudden, Zelda. You have always known that one day I would choose a husband for you. It is the only safe way for you as a princess, especially as only heir to the throne, to find a good mate. As your father, it is my duty to find someone who will love and cherish you, as well as make a good king. What is the meaning of such a reaction? Of such disgraceful ingratitude?"

Zelda hesitated. She had always known that if she was ever to have a future with Jeremy she would have to tell her father. This was not the way she would've chosen to tell him. But she gathered her courage. It was now or never. She clenched the fabric of her dress. An unseen peace of straw jabbed at her hand from her petticoats.

"I love someone else, father."

"What?" his bushy eyebrows billowed over his eyes like a storm.

"His name is Jeremy, father. He's a soldier in the Hylian army, training to become a knight. It is him I want to marry."

Without a second thought the king replied with a blunt "No."

"Father!"

"I will not allow it. You will marry the man that I have chosen and the man I have chosen is Link Knight and that is final."

"Link?" the name sounded familiar, though she couldn't recall a face, just a man wearing a green tunic and a ridiculously long cap. The adventurer who had won them the war against the Desert People? The only time she had even caught a glimpse of him was on his horse as the people threw flowers across his path. Her father had chosen that pompous brute as her husband?

"Yes. After witnessing his works and gotten to know the young man myself, I could not make a better choice. My choice is made and I have given my word to him. You will be married in a week."

"A week!" cried Zelda. Suddenly her world was spinning and she clambered for a chair to hold to. She couldn't breathe. This had to be a nightmare. It was all moving so fast. A week—there wasn't nearly enough time in a week to… to do what?

"Really, Zelda, you are over reacting!" said her father, angered by her shaking legs and gasps. "Do you really have no faith in my choices?"

"It's not that, dear father! It's that I'm already in love with Jeremy!"

"You are too young to understand true love." He growled. "Too inexperienced. For all you know that boy is just playing you for his own ambitions."

"NO! Jeremy isn't capable of—"

"You don't know what he is capable of and that is because you are blinded by your own emotions."

Zelda's eyes were burning with oncoming tears. Seeing her overly bright eyes the king sighed, shaking his head. He approached his daughter with big warm hands outstretched.

"My princess, please, won't you just trust your old father this one time? The search for love in this world is a painful and heartbreaking journey. There are horrible men who treat women as a means to accomplish their own desires and men who will spurn your love for another. There are men who are even little more than beasts." He grasped her shoulders and rubbed them gently, the lines of his old face softening. "It is even more dangerous for you, my sweet, beautiful daughter. I've stressed about this day all of my life, praying I would find the right man in the sea of filth who could make you happy, who you could love, and who would love you as I loved your mother. It would be more difficult for you to find him, so easily blinded by love and young as you are, than I, who am an old man who knows how they think and knows you best."

Zelda didn't answer. Despite his words, she was weeping now. Her father's words rung with love and wisdom, and she couldn't deny that. But her heart still rebuked the idea. In fact it was now screaming as though being rent in two. Images of Jeremy, with his curly black hair and dimpled smile ran about her.

The mighty king wrapped his daughter tightly into his great arms. Though she wanted to rage and storm at him instead, she buried her face into his soft purple robes and let out a muffled howl of misery.

"Daddy, no!"

The king bowed his forehead to her blond head.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, my little princess, and that you are so miserable." He squeezed her tighter. "But I must insist."

! #%#^$$$$$# ! #$%$^&%&%&$%^

The Great Hall of the castle had never been grander. Sunlight poured in from the tall, elegant windows onto cascades of white silk and flowers of every kind. Crystal ornaments sent the light showering into rainbows across every surface, and the royal red rug stood out like a streak of blood against the creamy marble and grey granite. People mulled about in their best, aglow with the happiness of the reunion that was about to happen. Gazes frequently turned to the groom standing tall and handsome at the end of the hall next to the priest Rauru, the very image of nobility in his white suit and sword buckled to his side. There could be no one more worthy of the princess than the great hero of the Desert War, who had defeated the Evil King Ganondorf single handedly and was known across the land for his great bravery and chivalry. Many people had been the receivers of his help in their various troubles. This also showed a sense of humility, some said.

But never before had Princess Zelda's opinion differed so much from her people's as she walked up before them in a vision of heavenly white. Her fingers clenched into her father's arm with one hand and the other threatened to squeeze the life out of her bouquet of bluebells and roses. The people rushed to clear the way the moment the grand doors opened, ooing and awing. From somewhere in the front beautiful orchestral music began to play.

This day should've been the happiest of her life and she just wanted to cry.

The king stepped forward and she stumbled into movement. She heard him comment on how beautiful she was, but she was too distracted to respond. Her mind was to the previous week, aching with regret. She had looked everywhere for Jeremy. In the first few moments of delirious agony she had thought to run away with him, to abandon her throne in the name of love. But, if anything, she loved her father so much that the idea of refuting her father so harshly brought her, if possible, even more pain than just leaving Jeremy would. So she had searched for him, hoping against hope that somehow they could work something out.

When she found him, however, she found him resigned and hollow.

"You are the princess, Zelda," he had said to her, and she had hated how he kept a careful distance from her the whole time. "This was bound to happen sooner or later. It's probably best if we don't see each other again. I'm sorry. I will never forget you. No woman will ever compare to you, but…I'm sorry, I can't compete with Link Knight himself."

And it was then that it had occurred to her that he had never mentioned marriage before or even ever said the simple phrase 'I love you'. Of course, this meant nothing. He had shown his love plenty of times before. Of course he loved her. He had to. But, either way, all of that was about to end now. Her week had gone by so fast. She regretted the time wasted that she could've spent with Jeremy, had he allowed it. She could've run. She could've done anything! And now any hopes for finding love were gone. Her Jeremy…

Her father led her carefully up the steps before leaving her hand with one last encouraging squeeze. A single tear slipped beneath her lashes as she lifted them to face her future husband.

To her surprise she was met with a tender gaze and a troubled, handsome face. His bright blue eyes were like the sky and they examined her face with concern. Dark blond hair framed his sun kissed skin. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but was interrupted by Rauru launching into his prologue about love. Zelda phased in and out of listening. The man across from her, Link, only ever moved his gaze to glance at Rauru now and then, but otherwise had them on her. She dimly took in his strong features, lined by a shadow of a boyhood he had yet to grow out of.

Still, she could only think of Jeremy.

"I swear it." said Link.

She was jolted from her thoughts as Rauru turned to her. She wasn't even entirely sure what Link had just sworn to do.

"Princess Zelda of Hyrule, do you swear to support Link Knight as his wife in times of sorrow, in times of joy, in times of plenty, and in time of famine? Do you swear to love him and cling to him and only him for all time as the goddesses have made it?"

Swear to love him? But she didn't! She didn't even know him! She loved Jeremy, not him!

She could feel her palms sweating. A few petals shook from her bouquet because of her shaking hands. She could almost hear the congregation holding their breath as the seconds grew longer in silence.

Link knitted his eyebrows, and for a moment she thought he felt sorry for her. His hands twitched.

She glanced back at her father and he nodded. She took in a deep breath.

"I swear it."

The words had a harsh ring of finality.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife, sealed from this time forth under the vision and witness of those here and the goddesses above. You may exchange pendants and," the old man bowed to Link with a gifting grin, "you may kiss your bride."

With trembling fingers she obediently lifted the fine silver chain with the crystal pendent over her head as Link lifted his own glimmering gold locket from his neck. At first they just looked at each other, waiting for one to make the first move. Zelda was surprised to find herself jerking forward to slip it over his hair first. Link smiled gently and slipped the pendent around her neck. Then, equally gentle, as though afraid he'd startle her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her to him. Her heart thudded loudly with dread. Chills of horror were leaking down her back.

And he kissed her. In fact his lips touched hers so softly it was barely a kiss at all.

As the room erupted into cheers another tear rolled down her cheek. She wished then that she had asked for veil to hide behind. Her new husband lifted a finger to her cheek and she was furiously pleased to see his face twitch with pain.

"Zelda, I—"

"Wonderful!" roared her father, butting in-between the two to give them both a bear hug that lifted both their feet off the ground. "I cannot tell you how proud I am of both of you! I could sing! And no one wants to hear that. Now to the festivities!" he dropped them abruptly. Link nearly lost his balance, unused to her father's hugs. "Rauru, if you're not drunker than me tonight for shame! Drinks all around! Where's that accursed band? Tell them to get playing! And I was sure I got dancers, so where by Farore are they?"

"Zelda?" Link had a hand wrapped behind his neck. His face was still crumpled with concern and worry and he reached for her uncertainly. Before he could say another word Zelda turned on her heel and flew down the steps. White rose petals bled underneath her feet and were swept along by her skirts. Men cheered. Children threw flowers into the air. Chimes tinkled along the windows. And, in the distance, the Temple of Time's bells began to ring neither a happy or mournful tune.

Yet a hole in her bosom was threatening to swallow her whole.


	2. The First Gerudo

Chapter 2: The First Gerudo

The moment the door to the carriage closed on the festivities there was complete dead silence. Zelda kept her face down as the carriage jerked forward. She felt numb, though her mind buzzed blankly with vague images of Jeremy, her father, and fragments of thought. She had not seen him at her wedding. She couldn't find him in the crowd. He was nowhere in the aftermath party that ensued.

Her father had arranged for a minor holding of the royal family to be used for their honeymoon, which was to last for about a week. "Plenty of time to get acquainted without people poking their noses down your neck, eh?" he had said. On the land there was a small manor surrounded by a lush, green ranch that was used for a few spoiled royal horses. It was there they were headed now, accompanied by only a royal guard and a few servants. The guard was to keep their distance from the manor and guard the perimeter. The servants were equally commanded to keep to themselves.

Though she ached dully, she felt like she should be feeling more. _Maybe I'm in shock_, she thought. Perhaps shock wasn't too bad.

Link fidgeted uncomfortably across from her. She closed her eyes, trying to block him out. Eventually she would try to get to know him. But for now, all she could feel towards him was hate. If it weren't for him she might've had a chance in presenting Jeremy to the inspection of her father. But now, thanks to him and his oh-so-big-deal heroism and sword play, she had lost the love of her life and maybe any chance she had to be truly happy. So for a while they rode on in that awkward quiet.

It was Link who broke it first a quarter of an hour later.

"So, I, um…guess we're married now, heh."

She kept her eyes closed. Maybe that would give him the hint that she wasn't interested in talking. But he kept going, somehow encouraged by the sound of his own voice.

"Princess, you, I mean, I've been wanting to—though it really isn't my place, though I guess it is now that I'm your husband. Oh Din, that's weird to say."

_Oh please, shut up, _she begged silently. She didn't have to be reminded.

"What I mean to ask is, Princess, is…sorry if this is intrusive, but why were you crying? Back there when we were, I guess, exchanging vows, if that is what that's called."

"Isn't it obvious? It's because I didn't want to marry you."

There was a pregnant, even more awkward silence at this statement.

"Oh…" said Link quietly, "I guess you…you didn't know me that well, after all."

"If you must know," said Zelda, figuring that sooner was a better time to break it than later, "it's because I had someone already in mind, okay? So if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it. This is hard enough as it is."

She tried to focus on the sound of the carriage as it rocked gently over rocks and the clip-clopping of the horses hooves. Though the numbness was still intact, it felt fragile and she was afraid for the moment when it broke and all her sorrow and pain came rushing forward like the river over a broken dam. Her fingers brushed against the soft, plush velvet of the seat, absentmindly tracing little circles and squares in it.

"If you wanted someone else, didn't you tell your father when he mentioned me?"

She sighed. "Of course I did. But he wouldn't allow it, and I can't—I'm not cruel enough to leave my father and people to go after some, some…" what could she call him? He wasn't just some man. He was Jeremy; Jeremy the would-be-knight, who she would've traveled to the ends of the world with. Jeremy: dark, handsome, and playful Jeremy. She felt the velvet of the seat dig underneath her nails as she clenched it.

"Why wouldn't he allow it?" asked Link. He sounded careful in his wording, clearly not wanting to offend.

"Because he thinks most men are sleaze and doesn't trust me to pick through the crap and find the gem myself." She sighed again, this time in exasperation and opened her eyes to give him a cold glare. "Why do you care anyways? Regretting marrying me now?"

"No." he said quickly—a bit too quickly. "I mean, I would never regret marrying you, princess, but I am…I can't stand the idea of…of causing you pain and taking away such happiness from you." A deep blush crossed his face and he dropped his eyes to his boots, flower petals still clinging to them. She stared, taken off guard by his comment. This was not what she had been expecting of the great hero. She had been sure that a man having received such honors and praise for his skill would've gotten it too much in the head. A statement like that, though, was not the kind to come from a man sick with arrogance. In fact, he almost seemed meek.

"Don't stress it," she said. "My father just wants what's best for me, and he did have a point. Most men are sleaze."

Link looked up at her with a weak, friendly sort of grimace. "That sounds like someone in a story I heard on my travels. Except she would've said it more like: all men are sleaze and then some."

"Who's this?" she asked.

"A genie who claimed to be the mother of the Gerudo's and the founder of the race's hatred for men."

Zelda's curiosity perked. This was Link Knight, whose adventures and travels were legendary, and yet she had heard little to nothing about them. She had been too caught up in Jeremy and sneaking off with him to care. Now that they had a good six hour carriage ride ahead of them, she felt curious for the first time. What kind of stories did he have? What kind of man was he?

He noticed her change in expression and leaned his arms across his knees, his eyes bright blue even in the dim light of the carriage lantern outside. The crystal marriage pendent fell out from his shirt to dangle and sparkle.

"Would you like to hear the story? It might help distract you from your troubles. It's the least I can do for the rough day I've caused you."

Again she was thrown off guard by his somewhat alarming kindness. Zelda found herself shrugging.

"Sure."

He started after he got himself comfortable by folding his legs crosswise on the seat.

"I guess the way the story starts is with a man who was deeply in love with a beautiful princess."

"Ugh!" she said instantly, "I change my mind! I don't want to hear it if it has to do with love."

"No wait! It really isn't all that bad. I can start it in a different way if you like. I think you'd really like the story."

Though she didn't much care, she was still curious. So with a quiet 'humph' she settled herself down once more to listen.

"Okay, I think I can start it from a different place. How about with the genie first and with how she became so? Well, before the genie was a genie, she was an ordinary, though captivating mortal like you and me. Most of her life was spent in a brothel, however, where she was mistreated and used by men one after the other."

"Wait, the genie was a prostitute first? Of course. This makes sense having the Gerudo as her descendents."

"Actually, I find the Gerudo to be a very dignified race, in their own way."

"What? Are you saying you actually _like_ those women of the desert?" Zelda snorted. "Though it would make sense with you being a man and all."

Link flushed once more. "It's not like that, princess. Would it be all right if I continued the story?"

"Very well."

"Like any woman, she had dreamed of being loved and cherished, so when a man came that claimed to love her for her soul and not just for her body, as well as showering her with respect and affections, she was naturally captivated and almost disbelieving of her luck. She found herself loving the man with all of her heart. But then one day, when he finally asked if he could make love with her, she took the chance to refuse, thinking he loved her enough to respect her wishes. However, this was not so, and the man took advantage of her in the dirt and slime of a poor house. Afterwards, she died from her wounds and from a sickness, vowing her revenge on all men. With that, she sold her soul in the afterlife to be reborn as a temptress genie bound to a golden bottle to lure men into asking wishes of her just to find themselves more unfortunate than they were before. The more wishes a man asked of her, the closer they came to their utter demise. Her thirst for vengeance burned eternally, just as her broken heart would ache forever.

"About a thousand years later she came out of her golden bottle to find a man unaffected by her beauty. In fact, he was frankly surprised he had the bottle at all, for it was slipped into his bags by a Gerudo who wished him harm. When the genie offered to grant his wish as she did for all men she came upon, she was surprised to find him refusing at first. 'Oh no,' he said, 'I've never heard a story where a wish from something magical bringing happiness. Besides, I'll have all I wish once I find the opal necklace of the Spirit Temple.' The genie persisted, trying to tempt him into wishing her to find it for him, but he refused, undaunted by the genie's seductive spell. Do you know why he was unaffected by the genie's beauty?"

Zelda couldn't say. She hadn't been focusing on the man in the story or why he didn't want to make a wish. She had been more concerned with the genie that had been so abused by men.

"It was because he was so in love with his beautiful princess. In fact, the reason he wanted to find this opal necklace was because the princess had vowed to marry him if he could obtain it for her, and that was his deepest desire. His love for the princess made it impossible for the divine beauty of the genie—or any woman for that matter—to have sway on him. He only had eyes for the beauty of the princess.

"So the young man tried to get rid of the genie by pawning her off to a merchant. When he found out the untimely death and destruction of all that the merchant held dear, he found the bottle falling back into his hands and the genie once more returned to him, laughing at his futile effort. 'You can't get rid of me until you make a wish,' she said to him, 'who knows! Maybe I'll find your wish worthy enough of good fortune.' Time after time he tried to rid himself of the genie, wanting to only find the opal necklace as soon as possible, but every time he did another unfortunate man would either die or find his life far worse than death. Eventually he decided to keep the bottle and the genie to protect others from her.

"But the genie was a restless woman. She couldn't stand being around a man for so long without having the ability to destroy him, for that was the downfall to her powers. She could only do with what she was wished with. She also was bound to her bottle unless wished free for a short time by her master. So, reluctantly, she was forced to assist the young man in finding the opal necklace, though she did try to kill him along the way, leading him into trap after trap which he weaseled out of barely each time. However, he never let go of the vision of his love and was never even tempted to be unfaithful to her, and this irked the genie even more. She could not believe that any man could have any pure intention and just knew the young man had to have other motives. Repeatedly she tempted him with visions, dreams, and even herself to find the falsehood in his integrity and loyalty, but each time he was unfazed and unbroken in his love.

"When they finally came upon the opal necklace, the genie was more bemused by him than she had ever been, for now the young man had gained the audacity of treating even her respectfully and honestly."

"Audacity?" Zelda broke in. "Is that the right word?"

"Well, to her it was an audacity, seeing she couldn't comprehend him being honest about his respect for her and his devotion for the princess."

"Did she finally believe him then when he returned and gave the necklace to the princess? Was she jealous when he married his love?"

Link gave her a strange look, as though unsure of where she had come up with those ideas. He straightened from his leaning position to stretch his back.

"Princess, he never did get the necklace to her."

"What!"

"And why would the genie be jealous?"

"No no no, reverse. He _doesn't_ give her the necklace? You're telling me he was a lying cheat after all? He gave into her temptation?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "So quick to jump to conclusions. You didn't let me finish."

Zelda tugged at her sleeves, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst. She had allowed him to make a fool of herself and her momentary forgotten bitterness returned. Turning her face to the side so she couldn't see her slight blush, she made a low snort.

"You know it's very unlady-like of you to keep snorting like that."

She turned on him, an angry retort ready, but was stopped half way. He was smiling, a sweet tender thing, and his eyes were kind. He was just playing. He meant no offense. Scowling, she returned to glaring at her wall, once again thrown off by his unsettling kindness towards her.

"Fine. What happened?"

"For firsts, why are you so quick to doubt him like the genie? I barely mentioned that the princess never received the necklace and automatically you assume it was his fault."

"What point are you trying to make, _hero."_ she snapped, unable to help it. "Are you daring to say I'm like a Gerudo?"

Link bowed his head, but his playful smile had turned serious. "And what is so bad about that?"

She gaped at him, incredulous. "What's so b—they're thieves! They're murderers! They're barbarians!"

"You speak from the eyes of a people who have been made biased by war. Tell me, have you ever even seen a Gerudo?"

Her sense of being a fool increased, and she found herself growing angry. How dare he demean her? Of course she had never seen a Gerudo! She was fortunate to have never seen one, especially as princess, and it was all due to her well-trained royal guards. But before she could aim a well placed insult to beat him back to his place, Link looked up and the way his eyes met her froze the words on her tongue. They were serious, older, and with a strange wildness that had been out of place in Zelda's pampered, royal life. The wildness of a life without baths and soft beds, but filled with cold nights, hard ground, dirt, and dangers on the wind.

"They are shorter than Hylian women, but their skin is like glimmering, dark bronze. Their hair is like flames and their eyes are the color of the sun. They are strong and never allow themselves to be manipulated by others and pride themselves in their independence from men, both in mind, body, and heart, and yet they also pride themselves in never killing the innocent, the young, or the weak. And in the night…" he looked out the window, a glaze coming over his eyes as though he were reliving the memory in his mind. "…while I camped out in the deserts, I could hear them singing over the sands and hear the breathing drums of their dancing. It was like the desert had gained a heartbeat."

She didn't know what to say or feel to that. This was the man who had fought against the desert people and their king. The Gerudo had been their own tribe, but they had joined the other desert people nonetheless, so Link would've fought against them at one point. Ganondorf himself was known to be a Gerudo himself, the only male to be allowed to live amongst them—as their king, even. And yet here he was speaking of them with almost poetic respect and nostalgia. How could he feel this way? And what should she feel? All she knew of the Gerudo were burnt villages, countless men with their throats slit, and calamity following wherever they went. And that spirit smoldering behind his gaze…that alone moved her into silence.

Link closed his eyes.

"When the young man had finally found the opal necklace he could hardly contain his joy, for at that moment he felt like all his dreams were at the tip of his fingers. The genie, on the other hand, was exasperated by his silly exuberance." He smiled to himself. "When he returned to his homeland, however, he came upon the people in great festivity. He soon found out that though he had been loyal to his princess no matter the circumstances, she had not. She had just been married to another, and from where he stood he could see that she was very happy, more happy than he had ever seen her. He saw that she truly loved that man."

"That's…" but she stopped. It somehow seemed inappropriate to make a comment here.

"The genie, however, saw this as her chance. She knew that the young man's heart must be boiling over with betrayal and pain that he would want to avenge. She had witnessed firsthand the suffering the young man had to go to for this woman and knew his regret had to be great. She planned to prey on this for a wish that she may finally destroy him."

"That wicked woman!" said Zelda. "Preying on him while he's down!"

"Isn't that what happened to her?" he sighed, laying down across the seats on his back and folding his hands over his chest. "You'd be surprised how much everyone does that to each other. Now did you want me to finish or not?"

She brought back her scowl and pursed her lips, but nodded.

"So, she tried him from within her bottle. 'You don't deserve this,' she said to him, 'after all you've done for her. She could've been happy with you too, you know. She still could. She may just think you are dead. Give me the necklace, wish me free, and I will return it to her and she will regret her decision and come to you. She will not be so quick to doubt you ever again.' But the young man, after giving one more look at the loving couple, turned around and began to walk out. She didn't stop, but continued to tempt him, offering to make him a prince to challenge the princess's new husband. She even went as far as to say she could kill the man, leaving the way open for him. When they were finally alone and she was allowed out of her bottle, he did agree to make a wish. The genie was strangely not as delighted as she thought she would be. She readied herself.

"'I wish that the princess will be happy, that she'll have beautiful, healthy children, and that her husband will love her all the days of her life.'"

Link glanced back over at Zelda at this point, who was also lounging across the seats, throwing propriety out the window. She yawned, but kept her eyes to him to show she was listening. From outside a horse whinnied. An owl hooted into the night.

"The genie was caught off guard, yet she was not surprised. She had been half expecting this. Till the very end, until the princess had chosen someone else, he had been faithful. 'Do you at least want me to return the necklace?' she asked him. 'No.' he said. 'I don't want her to feel guilty over me. Let her believe I died. She will be happier that way.'"

Zelda waited for him to continue, but Link said nothing more. Having grown sleepy, her impatience wasn't as strong as it could've been.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What happens? Does the genie answer his wish? Do they get together?"

"Get together?" he wrinkled his nose. "Why in the world would they do that?"

Zelda rolled her chin around in exasperation. "Don't you know how to tell a good romance?"

"What? Does every beautiful girl and handsome man together for too long have to end up as a couple?"

"Unless they aren't permanently connected, yes! Why not?"

"That is the strangest rule I've ever heard. I wonder if that works in real life though."

"Of course not. It's just in the stories."

"Oh…well, no. They don't get together." He hoisted himself onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her. "But the effect he had on her proved to her that there was at least one good man in the world worthy of existence. This story is what brought the tradition in the Gerudo's of their king being the first man to be born every one hundred years. There's only one man they are culturally allowed to bow to, just as the genie, their forerunner and mother, bowed ever to only one man."

"Do you mean she fulfilled his wish as he asked rather than destroying him?"

He nodded. "Yep. Every wit. And then she stayed and served him all the days of his life."

"Another reason why they should've ended up together! Are you positive they didn't, you know, fall in love?"

He chuckled. "Oh, princess."

She huffed. "What? Going to make fun of me again."

"Excuse me, but just a while ago you were telling me that you didn't want to hear about love. I told you this wasn't that bad, but apparently you've changed your mind."

Grumbling a bit she flipped onto her side away from him, kicking through her thick wedding skirt. She was done. Link must've taken her movements as a sign that she didn't want to talk anymore, for he didn't speak the rest of the ride, allowing her to drift off to the gentle rocking of the carriage. Jeremy flitted in and out of half-formed dreams.

She awoke with a jolt hours later, feeling arms carrying her. Crickets played about her, and the night air felt moist and cool. Servants talked quietly to themselves with soldiers as they unloaded the horses and carriage.

"Wha—" she looked up into Link's face, which smiled the moment he realized she had woken up.

"How are yo—"

"What the devil are you doing?"

Link's face fell and several servants jerked to a stop to stare at the two, but quickly rush to cover up their surprise.

"I'm…I'm carrying you to the house. You were asleep."

"Put me down!"

"B-but don't you want to at least be carried over the threshold? You know…tradition?"

Her face flushed as she squirmed her way angrily out of his arms and back to the ground, fighting her way through yards of white wedding fabric on the way.

"Correction, I would if I actually liked you." At this she proceeded to stomp her way across the lawn into the darkness where the silhouette of the large manor stood in the moonlight. She could hear the others following her—servants and most likely Link—but she didn't care. In fact, now that she was awake the crazy urge to slip off her slippers and tear off into the night nearly took control. As she looked up at the manor, knowing somewhere inside was the honeymoon suite where she would have to face Link, her new husband, her numbness began to melt. She hiked up her skirts and sped up. She couldn't let herself be seen once that numbness was gone. She had to keep control until then.

And yet her dread was growing.

A young maid ran ahead of her to unlock the door for her and light the lamps before her. Zelda followed her closely, itching to stay ahead of Link who she sensed had to be right behind.

"This way, your Highness."

As her dread grew, she became unaware of where exactly the girl was leading her. Up a grand staircase, down a carpeted hall, twisting, turning, until finally she found herself in a large bedroom filled with only moonlight from some open windows. As the maid busied herself with the fire and closing the curtains, Link came in, followed by men carrying their trunks, which they placed in the corner of the room. As soon as they came, they scurried out. Zelda was plagued by the notion that they were running away from what they presumed to be the long awaiting passion that was soon to ensue. This irked her more than anything. As though she could make love with that ass.

The ass in question stood before her now, back lighted by the fire in the fire place. The awkward silence that had traveled with them now came into the room. All that was heard was the crackle of the fireplace. Link looked down nervously at his boots. He scratched the back of his head. Zelda clenched her skirts, wishing with all her heart to be alone.

"Do…do you want some help getting out of that gown?" he asked. At the flaring up of color in her face, he scrambled to explain. "I didn't mean anything like that! It's just I presume that dress has a lot of buttons or ties you can't reach. Being a princess I wouldn't be surprised if you were required to have a complicated gown, and, well…" his face turned a deep shade of maroon to rival hers. "I am your husband. I'm bound to see your undergarments eventually."

"What's that suppose to mean?" she growled, "If you're aiming to get something—"

"No! No! Princess, I would never—it's only what you want to do, I just thought—"

"You're not coming near me, you understand? I don't want you laying a _finger_ on me!"

"Of course, Princess." He bowed, and even the tips of his long ears were red.

She stomped away to her trunks in a rustle of skirts. "And go away! I don't want to be near you."

"Uh, Princess, I don't know if that would be wise…"

With her defenses already beginning to crumble and the magnitude of what she had done that day starting to sink in, she lost all her patience.

"Wise! This isn't a matter of propriety, Link. This is a matter of that there's an unwanted person in my bedroom and I want to be alone! Is that so much to ask?"

She had never before seen a grown man look more like a puppy with its tail between its legs then she did when Link looked up at her, eyes wan and hands folded as though in prayer.

"Of course not, Princess. I was just thinking of the servants and your father. I doubt they'd want to know how our, um…sex life is doing."

The word 'sex' made her cringe. The thought that now they were expected to do _that_ gave her all sorts of nasty shivers. But he had a point. Zelda, of all people, knew the power of gossip. It could cause problems. At the same time, she found herself not caring.

"So?"

"So? Do you want maids chatting up a storm about that behind your back and telling every noble in the kingdom?"

She bristled. "If it's so important, what do you suppose we do _Hero,_ because I am not letting you come near my bed no matter what anyone says!"

"I can sleep on the couch!" he gestured to the red velvet sofa next to the fire. "I promise if you don't want me to I won't touch you."

She glared at him, then at the couch. But she had little time to debate it. She could feel the dreadful darkness beginning to well up within her. A soft voice in the back of her mind had begun to sing a bitter lamentation. Clenching her jaw in frustration as well as to hold back the growing stone in her throat, she spat out a reluctant 'fine' and turned to pull out her nightgown from her trunk. After she pulled it out and threw it over the lid, she proceeded to scrape along her back to undo buttons. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she came to realize the truth to his words concerning her dress. Link cleared his throat quietly and she could hear him tapping his boots on the wooden floorboards.

"Um…are you sure you don't need help? If you want I can just unbutton it and turn away. I won't look."

"Why are you trying to be so helpful? Unlikely you won't look." she snapped, though her voice had begun to tremble.

"Do you trust me so little?"

"_Yes._"

He fell quiet. After her arms had begun to ache, however, and she could feel the tears dripping down her chin onto the shiny silk, she felt too humiliated to call a maid. What would they think of her? Finding her in tears in her honeymoon suite on her wedding night, asking help to get out her dress while her new husband was just right there? _Damn people and their damn expectations, _she thought angrily.

"Link." she wanted to scream when his name came out almost in a sob.

"Yes?"

She screwed up her face and threw her fists down. "Fine. _But don't you dare look!"_

He said nothing as his fingers tugged down her back. The bodice of the dress slowly began to loosen itself. She watched the cloth shimmer in the firelight through her tears and lashes. What would happen to her now? Where was Jeremy now? Why hadn't she done something sooner?

"There. I'll turn around now, kay?"

Quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she grabbed her nightgown and turned around to make sure. Link was indeed turned around—and taking off his clothes.

"What the heck are you doing?"

He paused halfway through taking off his undershirt. He moved as though to turn but quickly remembered his promise and dropped his arms, keeping his gaze firmly at the opposite wall.

"Princess, I'm…I'm getting ready for bed. You didn't expect me to go to sleep in my wedding clothes, did you? That tunic is as stiff as though it were made out of horse hair."

"Keh!" she couldn't think of anything else to say. In the end, he was her husband. But the thought just made her more upset and furious and she refused to be okay with it, sternly looking at the floor as she stepped out of the wedding dress and into her nightgown.

"May I turn around now, Princess?"

But she was already digging under the covers of the large four poster bed. The welcoming softness made her cry harder and she muffled her sobs into the pillow. This was horrible. This had to be the worst wedding night anyone could ask for. It wasn't romantic at all, and how could it be? The man she wanted most wasn't there. And now she was filled with unease. How did she know that Link wasn't going to sneak into her bed in the middle of the night and take advantage of her? After all, he was now legally her husband.

He was now her husband…after all…

Husband…and yet she didn't- couldn't- even love him, and all thoughts of Jeremy were suddenly secret adultery.

"Princess?"

His voice came from right next to her. She felt his fingertips touch the top of her head as gently as raindrops. That sound of concern was in his voice again, and to her it could only be false, wrong, and out of place. She hated it.

"Zelda…"

"Don't touch me!"

His fingertips disappeared.


	3. Dreadful Wind and Rain

Chapter 3: Dreadful Wind and Rain

A woman danced before her. It was midday and the desert heat was exhausting, covering the sandy yellow land with rippling heat waves, yet she danced. Her skin shone like tarnished bronze, but not with sweat. Long, blood-red hair whipped about her as she moved. She wore simple white cloth, which contrasted against her cinnamon skin. Each movement seemed to just accent even more her womanly figure. Beautiful. She had never seen such a beautiful sight. But was beautiful the right word for her?

But what music was she dancing too?

The moment she thought it, she heard it: thrumming drums, a keening horn, and rattling zils.

_What is your wish?_

The woman twirled around and paused to place her eyes upon Zelda. They were the most exotic color and shape that she had ever seen: large, deep amber, and almond shaped. Beautiful.

_You know you heard me. I asked you a question. What is your wish? What do you desire most?_

She found herself answering and she could feel her own lips moving. This surprised her. She had been unaware of her own physical body, having been so caught up in the dancing of the woman.

"Jeremy."

The blazing beauty snorted and danced on, flinging her arms into the air as though to caress it. Her full, pink-purple lips smirked up at the tired blue sky and behind it Zelda could see the laughter the woman was holding back.

_A common man? Out of all the wonderful things of life you wish for a man? Sweetheart, there's millions of men in the world. Do you really wish so dearly for something so common place?_

"He isn't common place!" she protested. "He's special."

_That's what they all say. But is he really?_

And at this she curved her body, carving shapes into the air with her bronze and naked limbs. The sun was terribly bright. What kind of being could dance in this surreal heat without a drop of sweat? It was as though she were a part of the desert herself. Some inner passion seemed to leak out from her and Zelda knew it was this fiery passion that made it so the sun could not reach her. _Why not freedom? Why not dance? Why not the ability to find beauty in simply being alive? Why not the endless eternity of the sky?_ Although this time she seemed to speak this through her dancing, not through the strange voice that echoed all around her and through her head.

_Are you really content to sink so low?_

There came a loud boom and she awoke with a yelp. Rain pattered on the windows behind the wispy, pale curtains. They matched the coloration for the rest of the room: yellows and pale off whites, with accents of red here and there, such as the couch. Tired, grey light seeped lit the room. It took her a moment to remember what she was doing there in that big four poster bed. When she did she groaned and covered her face with a pillow.

"No, I can't be awake right now. I don't want to be awake."

Had she really gotten married yesterday? Or had that all been some dream? _Oh, if only,_ she thought blithely, feeling the fine gold chain around her neck. The marriage pendent. Married couples exchanged necklaces to signify their union to the other and that necklace was to be taken off only in extreme circumstances. But what she wouldn't give just to take it off anyways and be done with all of it; be done with Link.

Speaking of Link, she peered over at the couch, but all she could see was its back. She heard no breathing underneath the storm, however, and couldn't find his boots, so she supposed he was out and fell back into her brooding. She listened idly to the storm and thought it fitting to her mood. Lightning flashed and a boom of thunder rattled the manor. The window panes shuddered beneath the howling wind. _Wow, what a storm. It had been so calm last night. Where did it come from?_

"…_and watched as her corpse floated gently down, oh the dreadful wind and rain! She floated till she came to the miller's pond, oh the wind and rain. Floated on the water like a golden swan, oh the dreadful wind and rain!_"

Link burst through the door, singing happily with his arms full with two trays. He wore a light shirt and pants with, to her chagrin, his ridiculous long green hat. At seeing her peering at him from beneath her pillow he beamed.

"Ah, Princess! You're awake!"

"What was that dreadful song you were singing?" suddenly realizing how rude she sounded, she caught up with herself by saying, "I mean, it sounds pretty, but what I heard of the lyrics sounded gruesome."

"There's a story behind it, actually. It's called _The Song of Storms_, or the _Wind and Rain,_ as I like to think of it_. _I learned it from a, uh, rather disgruntled miller. Appropriate for the weather, don't you think?" He lifted the trays to her, looking very pleased with himself. "Breakfast? The cook your father sent with us is amazing!"

"Thanks, but…I'm not really hungry."

"Did you just wake up? That's probably why. I never feel too hungry after just waking up either."

No, that wasn't the reason. The dancing woman still demeaned her in her mind for her wish for Jeremy, and somehow that made the ache in her chest all the more terrible. An appetite seemed like a ridiculous thing at the moment.

"Just come sit over here with me until you feel up to eating." said Link. "It's cozy by the fire. We can listen to the storm."

"Mmmf…"

"I'll tell you the story of the song if you do. Don't you want to know?"

"I'm not sure if I do with that one gruesome line. Her corpse?"

"Oh, it's not all bad."

"That's what you said about the last one." Zelda said, but she pulled off her pillow and sat up to stretch.

"And was it that bad?"

"Well…no."

Link bobbed his head and smirked happily. After putting the trays down on the coffee table he ushered her out of bed. Had it been last night she would've slapped him for his attempts. But being even partially rejuvenated from sleep her curiosity could still get the better of her. In the end, she allowed him to lead her to the sofa. Once she sat down she was once again thrown off guard when he grabbed a blanket from off the floor and tucked it about her.

"It is a bit chilly. Muffin?"

She shook her head. A piece of her questioned him. What could he be thinking? This was not what she expected of a warrior who had defeated the desert. The memory of the harsh sun came to her mind and she questioned more. She pressed him for the story as he slathered jam over a muffin.

"It's a rather short one, really." he said, taking a bite from the muffin and swallowing, leaving a speck of jam on his cheek. "There were two sisters who fell in love with a miller's son. One was fair while the other was dark—you know, one blond and one with black hair. When it came to light that the miller's son had chosen the fair one to love, the dark sister grew mad with jealousy and pushed her sister into the river to drown. When her fair sister's body floated down the river into the miller's pond, a fiddler came by and was enchanted by her beautiful corpse and used her bones to make a fiddle, and her hair to make a bow. From then on, however, the fiddle would only ever play for him one tune: _the Song of Storms_."

"That's terrible! What kind of story is that?"

He stopped mid-chew to give her another one of his peculiar looks—as though he didn't know where she had gotten that from.

"I thought a romantical expert like you would understand that love doesn't always work out." he said through a mouthful of muffin. Outside another roll of thunder boomed, but it sounded as though it could be farther away.

"That's not a romance! That's a tragedy. And what does that have to do with storms anyways?"

He blinked at her as though it should be obvious over his second muffin.

"Well, tell me, what happens when wind meets rainclouds?" he asked.

Zelda couldn't bring herself to answer, because once more she felt like she was being made a fool of. Instead she tugged on her blanket and frowned. Link waited, but soon sighed and gave in.

"Wind blows the rainclouds away. Figuratively speaking, the wind kills the rain." he said.

"Just like the two sisters!" she filled in. "But, then…what about the miller's son?"

Link smiled through a mouthful and pointed up. "The sun. Just like the two sisters, wind and rain both crowd out the sun and this is the beginning of the storm. But when the sun shines upon the rain rather than the wind, the wind grows jealous and blows away the clouds, bringing an end to the storm. That is why it is called _The Song of Storms._"

Zelda allowed it to make sense and looked over her shoulder at the windows, where a flash of lightening had occurred. The fire hissed and sizzled as raindrops snuck down the chimney. Wondering idly where the servants were, she reached down and grabbed a muffin. She had already taken three bites when she realized what exactly she was doing and felt disgusted with herself. How could she eat at a time like this? She moved to put the muffin back where it came from and then noticed Link's face. He wasn't looking at her, but that wasn't what attracted her attention. That wild, yet alien spirit she had seen the night before was there again. Whatever he was seeing off in the fireplace, it wasn't flames. It was a while before Link felt her gaze and glanced back at her. She swiftly looked away, blushing.

"Princess?"

"Why do you call me that? Sometimes you call me Zelda, sometimes Princess, make up your mind."

"It's because I'm not sure what you want me to call you. Even though I'm your husband now, I still don't…feel like I'm up to your level. Habit, you know. I'm only use to being a peasant."

"Peasant?" Something akin to alarm spiked within her at this. "Are you saying you're a peasant? You're not even a knight?"

The man threw up his hands towards her, eyes wide. "No! I wasn't a peasant, I was-was-I was an adventurer! That's where I've gotten these stories from. You can trust me."

"But where were you born? What were you born as?" She didn't understand this horror welling within her. So what if he was born a peasant? But that meant he had lied—how could a peasant become a war hero? That was impossible! And how could he speak to her with such nobility and kindness if he were a peasant? Peasants were rough people who lived out their lives in the dirt, farming and working their skin into a crust. Could her father really have married her to a peasant? Someone not even of the same royal blood?

Link's eyes were shivering as he sat searching for words. From within the V-neck of his shirt she could see his own crystal marriage pendent. Its white silver contrasted with the off-white of his shirt and the sun-kissed gold of his skin. She noticed his fingers clench his knees.

"Princess, I…does it really matter to you so much?"

Before she could think she said, "Yes." The brief look of pain on his face only gave her satisfaction. Why should she feel guilt for this man who had taken her from Jeremy? And yet a small voice inside her quailed at her coldness.

He bowed his head, hiding his face beneath his hair. It had never occurred to her just how long his hair was. Did he have no sense of style?

"I was born in the forest on a small farm. I…I dreamt of raising an apple orchard, actually." He chuckled lightly, though it sounded empty and only exemplified his anxiety. "I was raised by my grandparents. My father was killed in battle in the squirmish that started the Desert War. My mother died giving birth to me. As for my station, what I was born as, I can say that my father and grandfather were Hyrulian Knights, and honorable ones at that." Even though, his head seemed too sink lower. "I'm sorry if you were wanting a nobleman or…or something."

So this was her husband now: a man little more than a peasant. Though she didn't know why that bothered her so much. Jeremy himself had been born of a knight as well, but his mother had been a noblewoman at least. Still, this man before her had made something of himself rather than stay where he had been born. Yet why did she feel almost…betrayed?

Zelda stood, folding the blanket over the side of the couch before moving to her trunk for a dress. She had to move. She couldn't stay still in the midst of this confusion, so might as well get ready for the day. From behind her she heard Link stutter to stop her.

"Please, Princess, I…I'm sorry, I've…" he paused. The next time he spoke his voice was low and quiet. "I've really screwed up your life, haven't I?"

_Yes_ budded to the tip of her tongue, but the small piece of her that was ashamed of her actions and hate stepped into the way. She was hardly aware of the dress she pulled out.

"Princess, may I…may I tell you another story?"

"Another?"

"Yes, I find that stories always help me feel better. I want to help you. And to be honest right now I…I don't know what else to do or say. Hear one more story?"

Even if she wanted to say no, she couldn't in the face of such a pitiful voice. It was wrong for such a strong, grown man to sound so. Though at the moment she didn't mind. She too wanted to escape into a story away from her sensation of being cheated and not knowing why exactly she felt that way.

"Yes." And just to shut up the guilty part of her she added, "I like your stories. They're nice, even if that last one was a bit gruesome. Just turn around before you start, I want to get dressed."

Outside the thunder finally came from a flash that had happened long before. The storm was leaving and even the rain seemed to be pattering more lightly. Yet the wind still moaned and hammered at the windowpanes. Its mournful howls reminded her of the dark and jealous girl who had killed her sister. Zelda slipped off her nightgown, feeling every weave of the fine cotton as though her mind had slowed down. Why did she feel so awful? Wronged?

"There was once a young maiden, a servant girl, who was traveling with her mistress along with a large company of soldiers and other servants. At one point the mistress grew tired of travel and ordered the carriage to stop for the night. Camp was set up and the servant girl quickly fell asleep, having walked the whole way. She slept fitfully through the night, hearing noises in the darkness and feeling cold beneath her blankets. When she woke, however, she found to her fright that the whole group had left without her. She was now very much alone, and no matter how much she called she could not find them. After a while, she could not find the path either.

"As the day began to grow old she broke down at the base of a great oak tree and began to cry. Not only was she hungry now, but her poor little feet ached. She felt awfully alone and terrified. How would she ever get home now? She knew that if no one found her, the beasts of the forest would surely devour her.

"Through her sobs she thought she heard someone. She quickly quieted to hear and lifted up her head to see that the voice had come from a white dove that stood between her feet. Between them glimmered a tiny gold key on the ground. 'There's a door in this tree that has all you need,' said the little bird, 'this is the key to it. I've been watching you and I'm so very sorry that you've been abandoned. Don't fear. You'll be safe inside the tree.' Before the girl could give her fervent thanks the dove flew off into the darkening forest. At first she couldn't find any keyhole in the fading daylight. But right as she thought the little birds gift would go to waste she found the key hole and opened a door to a small, cozy room inside the tree. Inside she found a soft bed, a warm fire, a basin to wash up in, and food to eat. She thought she had stepped into a dream. Surely, it had to be a dream. But when she woke up the next morning she discovered all that she had been given the night before was still there. After making herself a breakfast in disbelief, she stepped outside the tree to find the little white dove again. It waited for her in a tree branch with tiny gold keys dangling from its fingers.

"The bird once again spoke to her, greeting her and inquiring how she had slept. At first she was quite alarmed that the bird had not been a dream either. The bird spoke on. 'These are the keys to some other trees around this one. You'll find all you could wish in them.' The young girl's heart once again filled with gratitude. After the dove dropped the keys in her hands, however, it fluttered away and she was unable to give her thanks.

"This time the trees held clothing—beautiful gowns, in fact. To the girls eyes she had never seen anything so beautiful, only ever having rags to wear her entire life. In another tree she found more food, and in the final and last tree she found treasure: gold, silver, and priceless jewels. She bathed herself and dressed into the simplest gown she could fine, still unused to such finery. Just as she was beginning what to do next with herself the dove reappeared. 'Is there anything else you are in want of?' asked the bird. 'No!' cried the girl, 'you've given me more than I could ever want! Please, how can I thank you? You have flown away each time before I could appropriately give you my thanks.'

"The bird fluttered down to her knee. 'There is no need to thank me. You were alone and crying. I wanted to help. But if you do want to thank me, there is something you can do.' The girl was delighted at this. 'What is it? Please, I will do anything for you little bird.'

"'I will point you in a direction and you must travel straight through the forest. After a bit you will fall upon a small cabin. Inside this cabin you will meet an old lady and she will ask why you've come, but you must not say a word to her. You must not even acknowledge her, for she is a witch and will cast her spell the moment you do. Go to the back of the cabin to a closet and in this closet you will find an old jewelry chest. Out of this there will be many fine rings, but you must pull out the plain iron ring and bring it back to me. Through all this you must be swift and remember to speak not a word to the witch. Are you sure you wish to do this? It is dangerous.' But the girl would not be moved. So the dove, pointing her in the direction, bade her thanks and good luck before fluttering off in the same directions. Taking no time to hesitate she took off into the afternoon light."

Zelda itched to exclaim that the stupid little servant girl had just agreed to rob a poor old lady, but decided to say nothing about it for the moment. Link still held that forlorn expression as he spoke. She sat next to him on the couch and asked him softly to tie her dress, which he did while continuing the story.

"Evening had begun to come and she arrived at the little cabin just as the dove had foretold. So, following the dove's instructions, she opened the door and entered the cabin. Inside sat a tired looking old hag rocking next to an empty fireplace. As the bird had foretold, the little old lady looked up and greeted her, asking what she needed. The young servant girl did her best to ignore her, going straight to the back to the box of rings. The old woman followed, beseeching after her why she had come. When the girl continued to ignore her the old woman seized her by the gown and cried, 'This is my house! No one can enter if I choose not to allow it!' But the girl was still silent and got away from the witch, running to the closet.

She couldn't hold it in anymore. "Link, what kind of story is this? It's turning out just as weird as the last one."

"Shh," he said, quite softly and kindly as though to a small child. "Let me finish first."

"But the old woman is being robbed by a stupid little girl, can't you see that?"

He gave her a pointed look and she sighed. "Fine. Continue."

"In the closet she found the small box and which was filled with beautiful rings that gleamed and glittered before her eyes. She turned them over and looked for the plain one but somehow could not find it. As she looked she noticed out of the corner of her eyes the old woman stealing away out the door rather than stopping her from searching the rings, taking with her a bird-cage which she had in her hand. Suspicious, she quickly went after her and took the cage from her to find inside a bird holding a plain ring in its bill. As the woman screeched and scratched at her she took the ring and ran joyously back to the trees with it; the angry screams of the witch fading away into the growing darkness. When she reached the trees she stood there, determined to wait for the dove so she could give the ring as a true sign of her thankfulness. Growing tired with the night she leant against one. Suddenly the branches twined around her and were two warm arms. When she looked around, instead of seeing a tree, she saw a handsome man, who embraced and kissed her heartily. 'You have delivered me from the power of the old woman, who is a wicked witch.' He said to her, his voice warm with gratitude. 'She had changed me into a tree, and every day for two hours I was a white dove. So long as she possessed the ring I could not regain my human form.' Then all at once in a flash his servants and horses, who had likewise been changed into trees, burst back into their original forms as well and stood beside him, for he was in fact a powerful prince. At this he led them forth to his kingdom and married the servant girl and they lived happily ever after."

However, Zelda was not satisfied.

"Forgive me," she said, "but again, what kind of story is that? Is that one of those peasant fairytales I hear about? About servants marrying princes and princesses and all that?"

"And why do you suppose it's a peasant's story?"

Zelda fiddled with her hair self-consciously, though also annoyed. "Isn't it obvious? The peasant is showered with gifts and jumps straight into the royal seat without having to do anything. Pure luck. From pauper to prince in a night. Isn't that the dream of all peasants?"

Link smiled dryly. Their breakfast sat between them nearly forgotten. Feeling fidgety she grabbed a small plate of sausages that had already grown cold and nibbled on them.

"Actually, it is a nobility's fairytale."

She choked on a sausage. "What?"

"_Isn't it obvious._" He mimicked quietly. "The servant girl was so easily swayed by earthly comforts and fine things. Once the prince gave them to her she was all his and didn't even hesitate to break into a old woman's house, let alone risk her life since the prince had been telling the truth about the witch. Then, once she did what he required, he rewarded her by easily dazzling her away into his castle away from her family without a single complaint from her, all because of a little gold, a soft bed, and a full stomach." He leaned towards her, eyes shivering once more, yet somehow cooler than the warm, kind gaze he had before. "Isn't that how most of the nobility see lower class citizens and their own wealth?"

She threw down her plate, suddenly enraged. "How dare you! My father and I are nothing like that! And I know many more that aren't as well!"

"I said most, Princess." he said, turning back to the food and keeping his face away from her view. "I meant no offense."

"Then what did you mean?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"May I ask a question first? Was this man you loved so much noble born?"

"Is that what this story was for then? To try and teach me a lesson? To make me feel guilty? To make me feel awful for being so upset that you, my new _husband_ of all things, were born of lowly peasants?"

She had said it. She had admitted that it had bothered her, and in truth, that she didn't accept him for it. The words condemned her of being the kind noblemen he had accused her of. She caught her breath and brought her hands to her mouth, rage leaking away to be replaced by fear. But the damage had been done. Link stood.

"Princess, it isn't just Gerudo you are blinded to by your prejudice."

Without another word or a glance in her direction he walked out. The snap of the door closing sounded out like a harsh clack. Outside the winds moaning whistled through the cracks in the windows. Somehow, it reminded her of her dream with the beautiful dancing desert woman. Could she have been a Gerudo? She had meant to ask, but now wouldn't have the chance. She couldn't face him now. Link really had done nothing wrong to her. For the sake of her lost love and her lost chances she hated him. Hate seemed to be all she could feel in the midst of the awful, aching hole in her chest. No, it wasn't hate. It was resentment. It was sorrow. It was disappointment. For how could she ever have the happiness and love she desired so badly now that she was married to a man she hardly knew and did not love?

The words of the dancing woman lingered in her mind as Jeremy wandered in with his charming smile, summoned by her throbbing want. She remembered how the dark girl's amber eyes had flashed with a hidden mockery of her.

_Are you really content to sink so low?_


	4. Wings of Freedom

Chapter 4: Wings of Freedom

The fire crackled behind the Princess of Hyrule. Flour caked her hands and dusted up to her elbows as she fingered pastry dough into shape. Standing next to her with an air of uncertainty was the plump woman of a cook, who chopped various vegetables for dinner while watching her. A lone scullery maid scrubbed pots in the corner, working to keep her face adverted from meeting the eyes of the princess accidentally.

"Princess, does your husband know of this, uh, hobby of yours?" the cook asked, not the first time.

"Oh, relax, Hope. He was born on a farm. If anything he'll be disappointed if I don't know how to cook." Flicking flour off her fingers she reached for the little bowl of melted butter. Hope frowned and handed it to her.

"It still makes me a bit apprehensive, sweet. We staff were told to avoid contact with you two as much as possible. You should be getting to know one another."

"Well, then, think of this as a way to reassure it." said Zelda as she brushed butter inside a bowl of dough.

"Got in a fight with him now, did you?"

The Princess hesitated. She wasn't worried about confiding in Hope. The woman had kept her company ever since she was a child as a hybrid of a teacher and friend. She knew whatever she told her would be kept secret. The scullery maid, on the other hand, she didn't know. Hope read her expression and smiled warmly to her, handing the bowl of mashed blackberries and strawberries to her.

"Don't worry about Dianne over there. She's a shy little creature and not one for gossip."

On hearing her name, the maid Dianne scrubbed harder, as though fearing a scolding for not cleaning fast enough. Zelda couldn't make out much of her, other than she was incredibly slight of frame and had a few strings of curly orange hair sticking from her bonnet.

Turning back to the mass of dough and flour she sighed, spooning up a glob of berries.

"Yeah, I guess you could say so."

After that morning she hadn't seen Link at all. She had spent the majority of the day floating about the manor like a ghost, wondering just how severe the damage was that she had inflicted. Peasant born or not, he was her husband now, no matter how much the thought made her shudder and cry. _If only Impa was here,_ she had thought gloomily. The woman would have delivered to Zelda a guilt trip to make even a serial killer cry in just a few well chosen words, but she would have also given her a solution on getting rid of that guilt in the process. How could she make up to Link for her cruel remarks? Was not he in the same dreadful boat of marriage as she? And yet she had probably made him regret ever laying eyes on her let alone marrying her.

While daydreaming of gliding into Jeremy's barracks like an invisible angel—to see him without consequences and be able to kiss his sweet face—the only idea she could think of came to her. So here she was now, carefully making baked tarts. She would approach him with these and hopefully he would take the apology she attached with it. She had learned to cook from all the hours spent with Hope growing up. Having no mother from a very young age, Hope had served as a woman figure to the young princess where her father and even the gruff, intimidating Impa had failed. It was Hope she turned to when her body began to change with puberty, and Hope she turned to with her confusing questions about boys. Even more, it was Hope and only Hope she had turned to when she was faced with Jeremy.

Zelda wondered what the middle-aged woman thought of her now, knowing of her love for another other than her husband. As she folded tarts around their berry filling, she prayed Hope would not mention it. She didn't know if she could keep herself together if Jeremy and her feelings for him were to be brought up.

"That Hero of yours, Princess," she said as Zelda loaded tarts onto the paddle for cooking, "he's an honest one. You can tell in the way he always meets your eyes when you're talking to him. I would consider yourself blessed."

She couldn't help it, but snorted, earning a hard look from Hope.

"Excuse me, but I don't see how I could ever be considered blessed with the stupidity and cowardice I have."

"You are not—"

"If I had convinced father otherwise, if I had just run away, or if I just never laid eyes on that damn Jeremy I wouldn't be in the hell I am in now." She slapped the last tart on the paddle with vigor, suddenly angry with herself. The large woman seethed behind her.

"You are a _lady_, Princess. Don't degrade yourself with such profanity! How many times do I have to tell you? If I hear another curse from your lips again, I don't care if you're a princess and I'm a cook, I'm scrubbing that mouth with soap!"

Zelda waved her hands behind her in annoyance. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! I was just trying to express how I feel."

"You can express how you feel just fine without sounding like an uneducated ruffian."

"Yes, Hope." She sighed before lifting up the paddle and sliding it into the oven with its load of tarts. She watched them carefully as the flames made the crystals of sugar sprinkles sparkle. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck from the heat and she wiped it absentmindly as she listened to the familiar sound of Hope's chopping against the cutting board.

"Besides, Princess, you are not cowardly or stupid. You were wise to trust your father, who loves you best."

"I don't feel wise." grumbled Zelda. _I feel like an ass,_ she almost said, but thought otherwise.

"But you were. I understand your disappointment concerning Jeremy, my sweet, and you probably wish you had the same freedom as the common kitchen wench in matters of marriage, but with power comes precautions and dangers—"

"I know, I know." said Zelda. She already knew all this. Just because she understood the logic behind her royally arrange marriage didn't mean she was happy about it. "Can we not talk about this? Please?"

"Yes, my sweet. If that is what you wish. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You've done enough with helping me with these. Hopefully Mr. Hero will like them."

She could hear a smile on the cook's voice as she said, "I think he will. You're wise in this matter as well."

"More like not trying to make my life any worse than it is."

"Which is wise."

"No its not."

"If you say so."

Once the tarts were finished and the flour was cleaned off her arms she set off with them through the castle, asking whatever servant she could catch before they fled if they had seen Link. After losing her breath down hallways and stairways, she eventually found herself outside in the deepening sunset. Her breath caught slightly as she took in the wide expanse of green, grassy grounds. Large, beautiful trees spread their branches here and there, but other than that it was wide and open. A small group of horses galloped in the distance, their whinnies reaching to her on the porch. Momentarily numbed from her constant heartache by the peacefulness of her surroundings, she stepped down off the porch, tarts clutched to her chest in a kerchief. How come she had never been to this place? It was owned by her family, was it not?

She spotted him in the branches of a great oak tree, looking out across the sunset to the galloping horses. She approached the foot of the tree carefully.

"Hero?" she called up, wondering just how much he hated her.

His answer, however, was devoid of any unkindness.

"Yes, Princess?"

This was it. "I—um…I have something for you. I made them. I…" she looked down and traced the toe of her slippers in the grass, as she found herself doing whenever she was nervous or unsure of herself. "I wanted to say sorry for how I treated you this morning. It was wrong—cruel of me to do so, after you got breakfast and everything."

Link landed in front of her with a loud thump, making her jump in surprise. He still wore that ugly green cap, but beneath it he held a tentative smile that sent a strange jerk in her stomach. Had she forgotten those soft smiles in such a short time away from him? His face was so different from Jeremy's, who would've never been able to recreate those smiles. His had been for dashing smirks and mischievous grins. Tenderd vulnerability was simply unbecoming of him.

She never realized how much she liked it, though, this softness. It increased her desire to see Jeremy smile at her like that. But like what? And when would she ever see something like that again? She was married now...

"I take it this is a peace offering then?" he said, pointing to the small bundle against her chest. Zelda jerked herself out of her thoughts and into motion, holding it out to him.

"You could say so." She said as he opened up the crumbling tarts.

"You made these?"

She couldn't help scowling. "That is what I said."

"The royal Princess cooks? Huh. This is a pleasant surprise."

"I'm glad." She said flatly, knowing it may be best not to mention she could be as good as any peasant wife. She prickled when Link sniffed the tart before taking a bite. His smile widened.

"It's good!"

"No need to sound so surprised."

He chuckled. "Apology accepted, Princess."

She raised a hand. "Call me Zelda. You should get use to being equal with me, I think. You are a Prince now after all."

This made him positively beam.

"In that case, Zelda," he pointed to his previous perch, "like to climb trees?"

"What? Who do you take me for?"

"Well, I thought if you could do such an unseemly princess thing as cooking you could climb trees. Besides, the view from up there is spectacular!"

"Unseemly-?" she huffed. "You've got some nerve, Hero."

He munched on a tart, looking at her sideways as he turned to watch a trio of horses trotting by to reach others grazing a ways away. "How about horseback riding then? That's princessy."

But that was it. She wouldn't take him anymore. She had been taken off guard with how easily he forgave her after not talking to her for a whole day, though she was in part relieved. On the other hand she felt partially played with all the anxiety she had wasted on him. Now, after making her feel like crap for her own prejudice against him, he had the nerve to be snarky with his own stereotypical comments about her birth and position? The hypocrisy was amazing. So, with her fists clenched, she jutted her chin in the air and moved to walk away.

Link, with a tart sticking out of his mouth, rushed to stop her. His hand grabbed for her arm. She swiveled around, an insult on her tongue as he rushed to unclog his mouth, coughing as he swallowed down the wrong tube. She tried to push off his arm, but he refused to release his grip.

"No! Wait." he chocked out.

"Why? So you can continue to insult me?"

"Insult you? Zelda, I was joking. You aren't seriously offended by the stuff I said, are you?"

"It's more than just the stuff you said, it's your whole act!"

He made a face at her, part confusion and part disbelief. "_What?_"

At his expression it dawned on her that she was about to ruin what she had just spent several hours trying to fix. She inwardly groaned, feeling worn out.

"Just…just forget it." She said, putting a hand to her forehead. She didn't want to be here anymore. She just wanted to curl up in a ball back in her bedroom to cry. What was wrong with her? Now that she looked back she realized her offense really was unreasonable. He had just been playful, like he had been back in the carriage, with no intention to be rude. She could see now he probably meant it as an ice breaker after their long day apart.

Beginning to feel embarrassed, she pulled her arm from Link's grip and looked away. She shouldn't be around people when she felt this way: about Jeremy, about life…why did it still bother her even when she wasn't thinking about it?

"Just forget it. I'm sorry. Please, I hope you like the tarts."

But he walked in front of her, blocking her path, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

"I'm sorry. Prince—Zelda, you have a lot on your mind. I shouldn't have joked like that. I'm still learning. Forgive me?"

She made a noise of exasperation, still trying to keep her face, along with her embarrassment, hidden from him. "It's not you, it's me. Please don't worry yourself into a wart about it."

Like before he bowed his head down to try and meet her eyes. She nearly glared but stalled at the kindness in his gaze. That softness…had Jeremy ever looked at her with such softness?

"Want to talk about it?"

She shrugged. "What's to talk about? You already know it all, unfortunately." She sighed again, covering her face in her hands. "I really hate how stupid I am."

He grimaced wryly before straightening and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. He then walked back to the tree to gaze out onto the pasture and finish his tarts. Folding his arms, he looked back at her with his eyes glinting in the setting sunlight.

"Ever ridden bareback, Zelda?"

Fifteen minutes later underneath a scarlet sky she found herself in the humiliating position of having the naked back of a horse between her legs and rubbing in awful places. She could no longer recall how Link had convinced her to straddle this creature. All she knew was that he somehow had. And she couldn't even ride side-saddle to preserve her dignity and her tender parts without falling off. Link happily trotted ahead of her. She clutched the brown mare's mane tightly as she followed.

"This is insane." she said.

"How?" he asked.

"Who would ever do this? It has to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever done. Why did I agree to do this?"

"Aw, you get use to it. It's not all too bad. I had to ride my horse bareback for the longest time until I could save up to get my own saddle." He slowed down to ride beside her. Zelda was at a loss of how he controlled the horse to do that. It was all she could do just to stay on the horse, forget about fine point steering. "Besides, where's your sense of adventure?"

"I'm a princess." she said bluntly, "I have no sense of adventure."

He blinked. "Well, forget being a princess. Does Zelda have a sense of adventure?"

At his question, memories and feelings ran across her mind: galloping across the castle grounds as fast as she could, hoping that the wind would catch her away; climbing the tallest tree in the gardens as a child; trying to get lost in the forest so some magic would find her; and Jeremy—falling in love with him, being with him, and his whispers of taking her away where the wind hadn't before. Zelda frowned at Link.

"No."

He met her eye for a few seconds longer before smiling as though he knew better. This annoyed her and she gritted her teeth. She stopped, however, as the steps of the horse tended to vibrate through her whole skull when she did that. They rode in silence for a bit, the manor far behind them. A few other horses galloped in from the field to walk besides them, sniffing curiously at Link and Zelda for snacks. When they found none they ran ahead, whinnying and throwing their long noses into the air.

"They really are beautiful creatures." said Zelda, more to herself than to Link.

"I have a story about a horse." he said.

"If it's a love story, I'm not in the mood."

"Actually, it's not a love story at all. It's about a man-eating, mind-controlling demon of a horse who takes over this guy's life and forces him to do all sorts of horrible stuff, like kill his eleven brothers, feed it their flesh, and kill all the other colts on their farm. I think it also bashes in the head of a few people with its hooves and feasts on their blood and bones. Devilish thing."

She stared at him, partially alarmed. "What in the world gives you the idea that I would want to hear a story like that?"

He chuckled and shrugged. "Everyone has a morbid side, even the best of us."

"That's ridiculous."

"What kind of story would you like then?"

She considered this. All that day she had been thinking about the prejudice that Link had accused her of. The guilt had bred a strange curiosity in her about the subjects of her prejudice, and she thought of it now. She had also been dwelling on the unforgettable dream of the dancing desert maiden of the night before.

"The Gerudo," she said finally, "I've been wanting to hear more stories about the Gerudo. True ones. Or, at least, stories from the Gerudo themselves."

He didn't ask where her interest had come from, and wisely so as Zelda half wished she had not said anything at all about wanting to learn more about the desert women. Her pride would not have allowed her to admit that his comment on prejudice had made her doubt herself. Instead, he said, "I have a few of those. Do you care which?"

"No."

"Even one's about love?"

This surprised her. "The Gerudo have love stories? How can they? They're all women!"

"Granted most of them aren't very happy because they include men, but yeah, they have love stories. Stories build the basis of a people, so it only makes sense that men rarely give women happiness in the Gerudo's tales."

But, for once, this didn't faze Zelda, as her curiosity was getting the better of her. She pressed him for any story as twilight grew nearer and the crickets began to sing.

"Well, let's see…there's one story about a man who fell in love with a beautiful girl with wings of freedom. From what I gathered they were actual wings that she used to escape the wiles of society and earth to be her true self. Unfortunately, these same wings stopped her from being with this man because, unlike her, he was confined to earth and its many wiles. This made him think to himself that if he but bound those beautiful wings of hers they could be together forever. So, one day he lured her down from her sky to be in his arms. Once she was there and happy, he took out a tough shawl and tied down her wings about her. Then, without warning, she died."

"She died?" Zelda exclaimed. "Just like that?"

"Yep."

"Good gracious, why?"

"Think about it, Zelda. What do the Gerudo prize most?"

She only had to think about this for a moment. "Their independence from men."

"In turn, their freedom from society, for, I don't know if you've noticed, but our society is mainly run with men at the head. Kings, patriarchs, heads of households—all men have their place, and all women have their place. I mean, you yourself keep mentioning how you're a princess and thusly are expected to follow rules concerning how you can or cannot act. You must be 'proper'. Now think of their society away from men, run all by women. Don't you think that would make their perception of propriety different from ours?"

This was something Zelda had never thought of. The Gerudo had always been known to dress like whores and act like beastly women; in a word, she had always believed with the majority of her country that the Gerudo women were barbaric, lusty creatures. But who decided what was modest and what wasn't? If there were no men around to be aroused or bothered by too much skin, how would women dress? And if there were no men around, what would Zelda herself be doing? Climbing trees, riding with the wind, and Jeremy…she would be with Jeremy. For it was because of the fraction of untrustworthy men and their lust for power that she was forced into this arranged marriage with Link at all.

The same overwhelming feeling of powerlessness like unto what she had felt on the day she learned she would be married overcame her. The image of the dancing Gerudo from her dream, for that's only what she could be, came to her mind. She had danced with such fervor and lack of care for watching eyes, every move glorying in the shape and curves that made her a woman. And it had been so beautiful. It would've never been allowed here in Hyrule. It would've been said to be improper, and therefore that amazing beauty would've never been seen. That dance could only be one thing: freedom.

_Are you really content to sink so low?_

"So, in that case, the man from that story kind of represents the men of our society, which would take away her freedom from being what she is use to. Therefore, the woman who grew and flourished in that freedom of the Gerudo would've died, and a new person would've taken her place. She may have not physically died, but her character would've been smothered." _Her true beauty would've been smothered_, she added.

"In theory, yes. And yet some still fall in love."

Zelda shifted uncomfortably on her horse, looking up at the darkening sky. A few stars were poking through and the memory of light blue sky sunk away in the west. Beneath her the mare nickered. There was an ache in her chest she could not name. Why had these thoughts never occurred to her about the Gerudo? She was better than they were, more civilized. Why did she suddenly feel as though she were the one missing out on life?

"We better head back," she said, though she was hardly aware of the words coming out of her mouth.

"We don't have to," he said, "we could stay out here and look at the stars. I have some stories about them too."

"But it's dangerous at night. And, well, I am the princess." She sighed despite herself.

In the dim light of newly born night, she could make out one last smirk from Link atop his dapple gray stallion.

"You're with me, Princess. I don't mean to brag, but I could take on every guard back there all at once. If you want to look at stars in the dead of night or run barefoot through the grass at three in the morning, you can with me. And you can be whatever you want to be, princess or not. I won't care."

A quiet, childish elation that had been long smothered rose up in her and her aching quailed slightly. She had lied to him earlier about having no sense of adventure. She had even bluffed about climbing trees, for she had loved to when she was younger. Though, why should she be so caught off guard by the fact that she actually believed that with him she could do those things and more? She had been married to an adventurer, and a strong one at that. He had defeated Ganondorf, the Gerudo king and sorcerer allegedly single handed. He was peasant born, so didn't care for her act as a princess or royal propriety. As she thought on this, she wondered if her father had taken all this into account on purpose when he chose Link as her future husband. But could her blundering and easily excited father manage that much foresight?

"Maybe some other night," she said, finding that though Link's words helped the hurt in her heart, they didn't make it go away entirely and still just wanted to curl up somewhere warm to think. "I don't really feel up to it tonight. Besides, supper is waiting for us."

Link seemed disappointed, but didn't argue as he led their horses back to the glowing windows of the manor in the distance.

"Would you like a bedtime story later to help you feel better?"

"Yes…yes I would. Thank you, Link."


	5. The Man in Love with the Sun

Chapter 5: The Man in Love with the Sun

"There was once a man named Tall Stone who fell in love with the daughter of the Sun. He never beheld her face or form, for no man can look directly into the Sun, but he could see the work of her hands. She was the soft touch of morning light that spread open flowers and broke the sleep of night. As she followed her father into the day her soft warmth vanished within his overbearing fire until the drawing of evening, in which she used the sky as her pastel to give warning to shepherds of the storms that may be coming."

"How did he know she was even there, then? If he couldn't even see her? And how did he know that it was even a woman up there?" Zelda asked, looking past her downy pillows to Link who lay beside her on top of the covers with his head propped up with his hand. He kept his distance for her comfort. A fire burned in the fireplace on the other end of the room, lighting half of his face with amber light, which once again took on a kind, but amused, smile.

"Sometimes stories lose details while being passed down. You may just have to accept that he knew she was there, somehow."

"Where did this story come from? The Gerudo?"

"Oh no. Far too gentle an introduction to a male figure. No, this is from the Gorons."

"Gorons! Those rocky, mountain people have stories?"

He chuckled softly. "Zelda, I thought you would at least know the Gorons. Their allies to the kingdom, aren't they?"

She could feel her face grow hot as once again she found herself lacking. She was the princess! How was it that Link knew more about the races in this land than she? And the Gorons were indeed close allies of the kingdom. In fact, her Father even called the leader of the Gorons, Darunia, friend—blood brother, even. She could even recall the huge bulk and oddly rocky, dirt colored hide of the Gorons who frequently came to the market to sell explosives and rare stones.

The now familiar softness of Link's quiet voice, however, made it known to her he did not mean to demean her, so she curled deeper into her blankets and said nothing.

"The Gorons are more tale-happy than even we are. The key to being any sort of good company amongst them is to have a wide collection of tales." he said.

"You must have been a favorite then."

He bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you for the compliment, but no. I knew many Gorons whose story banks put mine to shame. But anyways, would you like me to continue?"

"Oh! Yes. Please."

He rolled onto his back before continuing. "As night came her mother, Lady Moon, would rise and she would then join her mother, where her gentle beauty made the stars sparkle. The night robes her mother would dress her in would spread about the sky in deep purples and blues before she fell asleep on the dark side of her mother as she turned. Tall Stone desired to see her. His desire soon become so that he could not sleep or eat, so he turned to his tribal leader for wisdom. The old woman told him that if he ever wished to see the maiden or to have her for his own he must speak to her father, as any good man would. The problem was, no one could even look at the Sun let alone approach him to speak. So the leader suggested he go to the much kinder and cooler mother of the daughter of the Sun, Lady Moon. To reach her, he had to climb to the peak of the eastern mountains to catch her as she rose from the edge of the land. Without any hesitation, Tall Stone packed supplies and headed for the eastern mountains.

"He made it after much toil (for this was before the Goron had gained their rocky hide and love of the mountains), to the top of the mountain just in time to reach the rise of mother moon. As she rose, beautiful and alluring with all her splendid silver robes wrapped around her, she turned to him with a knowing smile."

Zelda found with her drooping eyes that as she listened to him, her pain was eased. The stories did more then gave her food for thought. They distracted her from the aching loss of Jeremy. In them there was a world not her own she could submerge herself into. Was this why Link offered stories as a way to help her feel better? Feeling her pain return with her distraction, she quickly turned her attention back to the story, realizing she missed the last bit he spoke.

"Wait, did he see the daughter of the moon?"

He paused half sentence to refocus his gaze on her.

"Didn't you hear?"

"I sort of…was thinking about the last thing you said too deeply and got distracted."

"Oh, um, the lady of the skies wasn't there. She had business with her father that night. Anyways, Tall Stone gave his request to Lady Moon who was very gracious in her reply. She knew of him, having watched him through the night, and was pleased that he came all this way for her daughter's hand. She could sense that he truly did love her when he explained his reasoning. So, with her approval, she gave unto him a magical cloak to wear to visit the Sun. She gave him instructions to wear it as he climbed the peak next to hers to greet the Sun as he rose the next day, for the Sun was in his best mood in the morning. 'But,' she said, 'the moment you sense his light you must continue on with the cloak over your face, for although it will protect you from his heat, it will not protect you from his light. You must keep your eyes closed until you've made your way down this mountain or you will be blinded.'

"So Tall Stone adorned the cloak and accepted the invitation to rest from Lady Moon. As she rose higher into the sky she awoke him in time to begin his hike to the next peek. As he neared the top the Sun began to rise and he quickly covered his eyes with the hood of the cloak. As the Sun brought the morning he quickly noticed Tall Stone huddled before him in his wife's cloak. He demanded to know what it was he sought after. When Tall Stone explain his love for his daughter and the wish for her hand, the Sun laughed. 'But you've never seen the girl!' he cried, 'What if she is horribly disfigured and unattractive? And you've never met her! What if she's a shrew or a whore?' But Tall Stone just confessed he loved her and explained the beauty he had seen at her hands. He knew that she was kind, loving, friendly, loyal, and her fingers only knew how to weave beauty. If she was disfigured, he didn't care. He only wished to make her happy as the beauty of her sunrises and sunsets had made him. The Sun, though strong and hard, was appeased by this and led his daughters hand into his. With his blessing he pointed him down the mountain and sent him stumbling off, barely able to keep himself from flinging off his hood to see his love at long last."

"Romantic." mumbled Zelda, imagining some flaming beauty before her closed eyes. She could hear Link breath out quickly in a soft laugh.

"Is it up to your standards then, Princess?"

"Mmhmm."

"You almost asleep? Should I stop?"

"No!" she forced her eyes open. "I want to hear them get together."

"But they are already together."

"No." her eyes drooped. "They have to kiss or something. Then they'll be together."

The breathy laugh again. "A kiss? That's how it works then? Very well. I'll finish the story. Don't try so hard to keep those eyes open, though."

"Meh." She pulled out her arm to thwack him half heartedly.

"The journey down the mountain was more perilous than he had imagined with his eyes closed. He clung to the warm hand of his beloved who helped him as much as she could, though her soft voice only tempted him more to lift up his hood to see her. But he remembered the warning of the Moon and knew, as a blind man, he would never be able to be a proper man, protector, or provider for her. With that in mind he was able to wearily make it to the foot of the mountain. His feet were lacerated, his body bruised, but his heart triumphant. He knew he could find rest at last."

Half formed dreams were forming in her mind. She saw the dancing Gerudo again, except this time she couldn't focus on her, and soon she was looking up at the stars shifting into birds. Link's voice came to her from across the expanse of encroaching sleep.

"There he threw off his hood at last and, weary with fatigue beyond belief, he looked upon his new bride to behold that she was more beautiful than he could've imagined. She held the pride and glory of the Sun, yet was soft to look up on like the Moon. When he recognized the beauty of the sunrise and set in her smile and the glitter of the stars in her eyes, he leaned over to her…" a puff of warmth across her face called her from her unborn dreams. Warm. She could hear his voice as a close, low rumble of a whisper. "And then he kissed her. And they were together forever."

She thought she could feel the press of his lips against the corner of her mouth. But then again the Gerudo was dancing once more, this time besides a fiery beauty of a woman with ivory hot skin and sharp gold hair. The last thought she recognized before sleep claimed her was that she had the picture wrong. If this was a Goron story, the woman would've been a Goron. And Link hadn't said anything about her being hot like the sun, but warm. But before she could reconfigure her picture, she was gone.

She awoke to find Link still asleep on the couch. Outside birds were twittering and she supposed that it was them that had called her from sleep. Feeling drowsy and slightly curious, she peered over the couch back to Link. He lay on his side with his lips slightly parted and thick, blond lashes fanned across his cheek. _How odd that he should have such thick lashes_, she thought. Then she heard something: clicking. As each of his slow breaths reached a climax, something would click before he breathed out. She couldn't help but smile and felt mirth bubbling in her chest. Stopping herself from wondering if Jeremy clicked or snored in his sleep, she quickly got dress, brushed and braided her hair, and made her way to the kitchens.

She arrived to raised voices and a very disgruntled Hope with a cowering Dianne at her feet.

"—what do you suppose I do with this? Do you know what kind of trouble you could cause with your childishness?"

A squeaky voice answered her beneath her shouts. "I'm sorry, miss."

"I don't care if you think his heart is hers or not, I don't _ever_ want to catch you pulling this again." Hope began to tear up a folded piece of paper in her hands. Dianne gasped in dismay and reached for the pieces fluttering down. With her head lifted up, Zelda could make out her features for the first time. Her skin was freckled, but not unsmooth or healthy. She had round green eyes, a button nose, and thin, but not unattractive, lips. She was ordinary, for sure, but not bad-looking. As the few escaped scraps of paper landed on the ground she caught them and held them tightly in her hands, but Hope would have none of that and forced her to throw them away, her face scowling and flushed. It was then that she finally noticed Zelda.

"Oh! Princess! I'm sorry you had to come at a time like this." she said as Dianne scuttled back into the shadows. "You shouldn't have to watch me disciplining the maids like this. Have you come for breakfast? Where's the Mister?"

"He's still asleep. And it's fine, Hope. It's not like I haven't seen it before. May I ask what she's in trouble with?"

"It's none of your concern, milady. What would you like this good morning?"

"Some of those muffins you had the other day and some bacon would do nicely."

"I'll get to it. I pray you slept well?"

As Zelda seated herself at the counter she glanced back at the ginger maid, who sat on her little stool again with her head bowed, this time with a pile of potatoes to peel. She didn't dare even glance up at the Princess. Zelda eyed the torn up paper in the trash, noticing only three words that were written there: love, can't, and apology. She couldn't help but be curious.

"Did she write a love letter?"

Hope sighed in exasperation as she set about unwrapping bacon. "Yes, Princess, but please don't let it concern you."

"Well?" Zelda turned to Dianne in the corner, who seemed to sense her gaze and peeled faster. "Who was the letter for? Is it for one of the guards?"

"Never you mind, Princess?" grumbled the cook. She slapped the thick bacon onto the griddle and hung it over the fire, where it began to crackle and pop pleasantly. With a last glance at the maid, Zelda turned her attention to the orange juice Hope had just set in front of her. Just as the bacon began to grow crispy there was a loud yawn and Link stepped in, his bedshirt bedraggled and his hair everywhere. To Zelda's faint pleasure he had forgone wearing his green cap. She caught more movement behind her and noticed that Dianne had shrunk even more into herself, if that were possible, and was now peeling potatoes at an unheard of speed.

"Good morning, Your Highness." said Hope, taking the time to curtsy before setting out the bacon.

"Your Highness?" Link blinked at this for a moment before shaking his head. "Really, Hope?"

"You will get use to it, good sir, I promise. Bacon and Muffins?"

"Yes, please! And good morning, my Zelda."

She turned back from Dianne to see him gracing her with that soft smile of his. She felt her stomach squirm and a faint heat crawling up her neck. She took a sip of juice as he took a seat besides her.

"Hello, Hero. Tell me, did you know you click in your sleep?"

"Click?"

Hope chortled as she rolled out muffins before them and set herself about to filling another glass of orange juice. She asked Link if there was anything else he wanted and he asked for some honeyed sausages, which she set herself to immediately.

"Yes. It was the strangest thing! Every time you breath there's this 'click' before you breath out." Zelda nibbled a piece of her bacon happily as Link jammed a muffin. He seemed very amused by this fact.

"I think my grandmother told me I did once, but that was when I was a child. I thought I would've grown up out of it by now." he sighed. "Grandfather's going to have a hoot calling me all sorts of names."

There was a loud clatter of a knife. Both of them turned in time to see Dianne clutch her fingers as the potato she had been holding tumbled to the ground. By the time Hope had come around to see what had happened Link had walked over and taken her hand. Blood trickled down her fingers.

"You shouldn't try peeling potatoes so fast, you know." he said.

The pale, thin fingers were trembling in his hands as he pulled out a handkerchief from his shirt and accepted a wet rag from Hope. Zelda watched as the scullery maid's face turned all sorts of colors behind a thin curtain of orange curls and felt a twinge. Could it be the love letter had been for…?

Link carefully cleaned the blood away and wrapped up her finger tightly in his handkerchief.

"There you go," he said. "Too tight?"

She shook her head furiously. He smiled at her and Zelda found a faint anger welling within her. When Link returned to her side at the table it took all her self control not to glare at him and talk normally. _It was inappropriate of him to smile at her like that_, she found herself thinking, _married and all. _

"I'm sorry, milady, your highness," said Hope, curtsying to both Link and Zelda, "But we were under strict orders to be with you as little as possible by the king. So, if you please, I must ask you to leave the kitchen. If you'd like I can have more food sent up to you."

Link blinked, a piece of bacon half way to his mouth. "Oh, uh, sure. Could we have something to take all this? And those sausages?"

Next thing Zelda knew, she was back outside in the front of the manor under that same tree of yesterday, watching horses run by as she tore apart muffins. The world still held that crisp smell and feel of morning, and the sun glittered behind the treetops on the horizon. The scene with Link and the maid kept replaying in her mind. He sat beside her, happily munching away at breakfast.

"This is like a picnic! Not too bad at all. And man, this bacon is good." he said. She chewed slowly, trying not to ground her teeth.

"Hero,"

"I'm supposing by that you mean me?"

"Don't be snarky with me, what was all that about back there in the kitchen?"

He stopped half chew to look at her in confusion. "Huh?"

"And will you please swallow before you talk?"

He obeyed, clearing his mouth before asking what she meant.

"You know what I'm talking about. Getting all friendly with that maid while you gave her your handkerchief."

Now his expression changed to disbelief.

"She was _bleeding_ all over the place! What was a gentleman suppose to do?"

"Let Hope take care of it. She is her maid, after all. Besides, it was more that stupid little grin you gave her." She angrily buttered her muffin, unaware of slathering some onto her fingers in the process.

"Oh come off it. You're getting mad at me just because I was nice? I thought girls went goo goo over stuff like that."

"Yeah! If it's them, not some other girl!"

There was a semi-awkward pause as Zelda bit into her muffin with vigor and something clicked in Link's head. Leaning back against the oak tree, a goofy smirk spread across his face as he coolly slipped in a piece of bacon into his muffin. Rearranging it unnecessarily he said casually, "There's no need to get jealous, Zelda. I am, after all, married to you. If you want—"

But that was as far as he got before she screeched, "Jealous! Jealous! You think I'm jealous? Why in the world would I be jealous over you?"

Slightly taken back by her reaction, he said, "I only thought—"

"I'm in love with Jeremy. Jeremy! Or haven't you been listening?"

He opened his mouth to reply but stopped, stunned. Slowly, he lowered his food and turned his face away from her, his demeanor closed. Zelda clenched her skirts, breathing hard and almost worried over how he would react. Though why should she? He knew better then to suggest such a thing. She explained it to him on their first night together where her feelings lay. Then why did she feel almost…guilty? There really was no reason for it. Yet she watched him in anticipation, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

When he next spoke his voice had lost the kind, soft quality she was use to.

"Princess Zelda, I want you to know that I will still never give up on trying to win your love."

This caught her momentarily by surprise, which unreasonably switched to frustration, and confusion—a bad combination.

"What did I do to give you the inclination that I would ever love you?" she blurted out.

The harsh bitter tone she made even shocked her a bit. Yet all Link did was raise his eyebrows and frown. The wild fire had returned to his eyes. They were hard. This man she was not use to and it sobered her. He tossed his strange bacon and muffin combination back onto the plate and glared back at her.

"If you loved this man so very much, why did you go through with marrying me?"

"I-I-I'm a princess. It's my duty." She looked down at her hands. "I saw wisdom in my father's words. Besides, I still ask myself that same question. I don't know how to handle myself. I'm so cowardly and stupid, so willing to bow myself down. If only I were more like the Gerudo."

Link snorted, an unruly and skeptical sound that was unlike him and his kind ways. She closed her eyes, now knowing he must be truly offended and beginning to feel the pinpricks of shame.

"Well, I'm sorry, Princess, that you are so disappointed with the lot you chose." There was a brief quiet that expanded in her mind for hours in which Link sighed to himself and allowed his tone to soften once more. "You're right, though. I did know, and I've known from day one about Jeremy. I shouldn't act so…upset. I'm sorry my love for you has only caused you misery. If I had known…"

But at that he stood and walked out into the fields towards the horses, and Zelda didn't have the courage to stop him. Did he just confess to her? That realization alone could've frozen her in place, but this had been the wrong moment for it. Rather than excitement over his affections, all she felt was dread for having made him so forlorn and hurt by it—not to mention having to reject it. Link Knight was not a bad man, nor was he comely or unhandsome. She thought of his heart jerking soft smiles and his time spent telling her stories and teaching her of the races of this land. He would make a fine King some day, she knew. And she also knew, probably more deeper than any other knowledge of him, that he would also make a fine companion and husband. He deserved her love, didn't he? Her father had chosen well.

Covering her face in her hands, breakfast forgotten, she wanted to weep. Maybe she had been jealous. Why did she have to be so pitiful? She couldn't let this end up bad like last time.

Jumping to her feet, she ran after Link who had already pulled himself onto the bare back of the dapple grey stallion. Both him and the horse flinched when they caught her sprinting at them and bright eyed.

"Zelda?"

"Take me with you!" she cried.

He watched in bemusement as she reached them and grabbed her knees to catch her breath. The horse sniffed her golden hair curiously.

"To where?"

"Wherever you are going. I..I want to go with you. Please. I'm sorry for how I've been acting." she straightened to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. You're right, I…" she blushed, "I may have been jealous."

In answer, he gave her the same, heart-jerking smile that Zelda found growing on her so: the smile that spoke of kindness, forgiveness, and a lack of mockery. He reached down a hand to her. For the first time she found herself smiling back and accepting his outstretched hand. He lifted her up with surprising strength and sat her in front of him. Her blush, original from exertion, deepened as his chest pressed against her and his thighs held her in place. What was the matter with her?

"Hold on tight." he said, reaching about her to hold on to the stallion's dark mane.

The Gerudo came to her mind all of a sudden, curving in her dance of freedom with her blood red hair framing her bronze body. Those exotic, amber eyes turned to her.

_What is your wish? What is it that you desire?_

And in that breath of a second where the muscles of the horse launched them forward and Link's warm arms held her to him securely, she wondered.


	6. Father's Apples

Chapter 6: Father's Apples

"Did you know the Royal Family owns an apple orchard up here?"

They were moving at a gentle canter through the fields, the morning sun gaining height in the sky. Having Link behind her didn't change the fact that riding bareback was still one of the most uncomfortable activities ever.

"No, sorry." She grimaced. Why did the Goddesses put tenders down there? "Is there any chance we could stop soon?"

"You said you wanted to go where I was going, and I want some of them apples. It's my, uh, princely duty, seeing as no one else is eating them."

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Just how far away is it?"

"Not too far."

"Thank Nayru!"

"What? Can't stand being this close to me for so long?"

"No, it's just—" then she realized what she was saying and gagged. "Yes, that's exactly it. You smell like a sweaty man." which was a lie, since the air was pleasantly warm and not near hot enough to bring up sweat. It was an even deeper lie to the fact that Zelda could smell Link very clearly and he didn't smell bad at all, but she stopped her thoughts there. The moment she classified his scent, she knew, something horrible would happen. But what exactly would happen and why it would happen just because she labeled his scent she didn't think about. Nor did she give any notice to the mini Impa in her head sniggering at her lack of logic.

"Excuse me. I forgot to rub flowers in my armpits this morning." He didn't sound like he believed her anyways.

The time it took to reach the orchard was longer than she would have liked. She inwardly cursed her rash decision to ride off with Link as she struggled to slip off the horse without him noticing how sore she was in the unmentionables. What had made her do it anyways? Some romantic high? Ridiculous. Any reason was ridiculous and unlike her. She really was forgetting herself.

Link didn't wait for her but threw himself into the shade of an apple tree. Off in the distance stood the manor, half hidden by trees. The orchard itself was quite quaint, but the apple trees were well cared for. Bright fruit dangled from their branches, weighing them down to only a few feet from the grown. Link reached up and plucked a red apple from one of these branches and smiled into its skin as though seeing a fond vision playing upon it.

"These apples remind me of a story."

She grinned despite herself and sat herself down gently in the shade next to him. The grass wasn't too long here, like it was in the field, but she could feel the ends tickling her calves through her skirts.

"I'm not surprised." she said. "You and stories."

Polishing the apple against his shirt he proffered it to her. "It's a story my Grandfather told my mother after my father died. She was pregnant with me at the time and needed all the comfort she could get." He breathed out skeptical puff of air. "Though personally, I think it just reminded her how much he was gone every time she saw an apple tree after that. Not much help. But…" he reached out and took down another apple to polish against his tunic. He contemplated it and finished with, "Grandfather seemed to think so."

"A story about apple trees? Didn't you want to have an apple orchard?" she took a bite out of the apple and was surprised at the rich flavor bursting in her mouth. The apple had reached perfection. How come she never knew about this orchard either?

"Yeah. I did. Actually, it was because of this story that I wanted to raise an apple orchard. They too reminded me of my father. And I thought…" he caught himself and left the sentence at that for another bite of apple.

"These are amazing." She said.

"I thought you'd like them."

"Could you tell me this story?"

The look he gave her was different from the times before. The smile was weak and the bright blue of his eyes seemed dulled. But he obliged her, and before she could tell him never mind he had started.

"There was once a beautiful newlywed couple who had the bad fortune to marry during a time of war. Due to it, only a month or so after they were brought together the young husband was carried off into war and killed before she brought forth their first child. They brought him home in a cart filled with flowers and buried him behind their small home. So great was her grief that she cried the rest of her days before delivering. She nearly died. But when her child was born she saw her husband in him, so she decided to live on for her child. No sooner had she decided this when she looked out her window and beheld a beautiful tree beginning to grow above her husband's grave.

"When she found herself in poverty with hardly enough to keep her baby alive let alone herself, the tree bore fruit out of season and the most beautiful fruit of its kind it was. They were apples of the whitest flesh and of the brightest red skin. So beautiful and delicious were the apples that they fetched a high price in the market and soon began to spread myths of curing illness with their sweetness, so rich and royal men alike from all over the country began to seek for the fruit. The apples grew whenever they were in need, and in that way her lost husband provided and cared for his family even after death. As the child grew, so did the tree, and her son grew up eating the apples that grew over his father's grave.

"He was an adventurous child," and at this he smirked wryly. "Really, the similarities in this story is uncanny. I've often thought my grandfather was a seer or something. Anyways, as a boy the kid would get into all sorts of trouble and drive his mother ragged with worry. She tried to put her foot down after a few dangerous cuts with beast in the forests and strangers for fear that she would lose him as well. When he grew into a young man, however, he began to resent his mother for holding him down and expecting him to be a good, boring farm boy. He dreamed of something bigger and grander. He dreamt of dramatic wars and winning damsels in distress, as all foolish young boys are prone to do when they haven't been smacked upside the head properly with reality. At least, that's how my grandfather would say it. One day when he had caused a serious accident in the village trying to fend off a bull, his mother declared to him that she was glad his father was dead, for he would've disgraced him." He brought the apple to his eyes and rotated it in his hands. "Unable to handle his shame because of his great pride and arrogance, the boy planned to flee that night in search of adventure and leave his mother behind to miss him and regret ever insulting him."

"That can't be how you were when you were a kid. So I guess the theory of your grandfather being prophetic stops here." said Zelda, tossing away her apple core and reaching up for another. The day was beginning to grow hot and she picked at her dress collar in discomfort.

"Also, my mother died soon after I was born." He took a bite of his browning apple and chewed in thought. "Not to mention my grandfather told me this story specifically so I'd learn not to be like the young man. Not that it helped any."

Zelda paused mid-chew, wide-eyed. "Are you saying you were an arrogant snot once upon a time?"

"I guess you could say so."

"You've got to be joking!"

He leaned back against the tree, his odd melancholy vanishing for amusement once more. "What gave you that impression, Princess? I thought you of all people would expect it."

"But it just can't be true." And before she could consider her words she said, "You're far too sweet and wise. I just can't see you being such a hassle or hating anyone for holding you down."

He shrugged and turned his eyes away from her. "Thank you, princess. But no. I'm afraid I caused a good deal of grief for my grandparents when I was a young boy. I guess I wanted to prove something of myself, maybe find the courage and strength of my father out in the big world." Link shook his head and picked at the grass absentmindly. "I wasn't as cruel as this young man was to be. I was concerned for my grandparents and wanted to stay to care for them. But I can't say I didn't feel some resentment, nor can I say I didn't run away at some point. No fear, though. I got that 'good smack upside the head with reality' my grandfather wanted so bad."

Zelda fingered her skirts. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the faint buzz of cicadas and looked up. Through the leaves she could make out the sun midway through the sky. The grey stallion had wandered several trees down and was now munching on apples happily, for a fence stood between the orchard and the rest of the fields, so this was a rare treat. She sighed.

"I know so little about you…"

Link just smiled gently. The kindness made her doubt all the more that he could've ever been arrogant, resentful, or rebellious. But in a flash she remembered those rare moments when his eyes grew hard and a wild spirit set his figure into stone. There _was _something else within him she had yet to get a good look at: the part of him that made him into the deadly warrior and adventurer; the slayer of the great Gerudo King.

A chill settled in her veins. Why had she never thought more about this? About the Desert Hero, not the man who had taken her away from Jeremy. But she knew the answer. As she grew silent, Link continued his story.

"In the dark of night he took up his belongings and wrapped himself in his finest, warmest cloak. As he went out the back door, however, a glow from their precious apple tree caught his attention. Apples had not grown in the tree for a while, but tonight there grew the most beautiful fruit of all. Instead of red, the apple was yellow as gold. It called to the young man and, thinking shamefully of his father, he decided to take the apple with him. As he plucked it from the tree the glow vanished to leave only the moonlight. The boy didn't have to travel far before it began to rain. As he came upon an inn he met a beautiful young maiden curled up next to the common room fire. He made little time in inviting himself to her side and striking up a conversation. Her wit and kind, clever humor captured him more than her beauty. By morning he felt he was in love, but by the time he awoke the rain had gone and so had she. It was through the tavern owner that he learned, to his dismay, that the girl had been no other than the royal princess of the land."

"Another princess." Zelda snorted softly, unable to restrain herself. "Why is it always princesses?"

"Because, my Zelda, princesses are suppose to be legendary for their beauty." He took this chance to eye her up and down, to which she threw her half eaten apple at him. He laughed as she blushed. "What? You are my wife."

"You are so uncouth." She seethed.

"And yet you cannot see me being a brat as a child. Your vision surpasses my understanding."

"Pardon me for my misconception." And unable to help herself she reached up for another apple. They were just too good! And besides, it was lunch time. "Now continue your story before I throw another at you."

"Well, naturally he was set on winning her hand despite his lowly birth, for all good adventurers get the princess, he figured. He made his way to the castle, which wasn't too far, and demanded an audience with the King. His request was met with laughter. How could a foolish boy of lowly birth expect to have the King make time for him? They laughed harder when the boy expressed his wish to discuss the terms of winning the princesses hand with him. He was tossed out the castle walls in contempt, for the princess was already engaged to a prince from a far away kingdom. Dismayed, but not discouraged, the boy moved to sneak into the castle and meet with the princess alone. Surely, he thought to himself, he could win the princesses heart and have him for himself. Or perhaps, even better, he could put the king in a spot to hear his demands. Unfortunately, that night as he attempted to sneak into the castle he was quickly captured and thrown into the dungeons with all his belongings taken from him, except for the golden apple in his pocket.

"He stayed there for the rest of the night. In the morning the princess heard of his capture and came down out of curiosity as to who would've wanted to see her so badly. She was flattered as any girl would be and wanted to see the face of him who thought so much of her. She was surprised to see the boy from the Inn, and he was more than happy that she had come to him. In his haste and excitement he offered the beautiful golden apple to her, declaring it a sign of his love. The princess was so enamored by the beautiful fruit, with such beautiful yellow skin, that she returned to her father with requests on the boy's behalf. The father, humoring his daughter, summoned the young man up. Wanting to get rid of him, he told the young man that if he could slay the great Black Knight of his enemy kingdom, he would give his daughter's hand to him in marriage. Ecstatic with the thought that his adventure was reaching a climax, he quickly agreed and allowed the king to send him off. Before he left, however, the princess returned the apple to him with sorrowful eyes, knowing he wouldn't return. 'I don't deserve such a gift of love for where it has sent you.' The young man protested, saying that he would return and to have faith in him, but she refused to take back the apple.

"And the princess presumptions were true. There was a great war happening on the borders between the kingdoms. The young man quickly found himself in the midst of the battle he so dreamt about, but it was nothing how he dreamt it to be. By the time he came upon the Black Knight he had shed the blood of men who had wanted his life. He had watched the horror of death and was reminded of his own mortality. In the battle that ensued he would lose his lower leg and one of his eyes. He barely got away from the terrible beast of a warrior the Black Knight was because another ambitious man had stepped in front of him for his own turn. It was in the midst of this that his mind turned to his mother. He longed for the peaceful times in his village and regretted how he had been a nuisance to his poor, widowed mother. With his pride gone, his shame overwhelmed him. How could he have left her so? How could he have been so prideful? Suddenly, his goal to win the princesses hand became foolish to him. The princess had always been out of his reach. He couldn't care for her. He couldn't even slay her father's greatest enemy to protect her. And lastly, in search for comfort, he thought of his father and the only memory he had of him: the sweet flesh of freshly plucked apples from his father's tree.

"And in the depths of despair he took out the golden apple of his father's tree and took a bite, feeling forgiveness was so far away. As he chewed a strange sensation came over him and from within the broken skin of the apple raised the vision of man who looked so much like himself. Instantly the young man perceived his father and begged his forgiveness and wept at his feet, for his mother had been right. In return, the father embraced his son and whispered into his ear, 'Cut the apple in half, horizontally. I've only ever wanted your happiness. Please, remember this day.' And the vision vanished. Eager to change and be obedient, the maimed young man quickly cut the apple horizontally. Inside he found bright gold seeds placed in the apple in the shape of a star. As he watched one of his tears fell on a seed and it popped out and began to grow. From it came a beautiful woman, as naked as the sky, with golden hair like unto the apple skin. She smiled to him and he wrapped her up into his arms. She healed his lost leg and eye with her soft hair and tears. Once whole, he carried her home, keeping the remains of the golden apple in his pocket, to present to his mother. He named her Applestar. On that day he lost all thirst for glory and adventure and brought peace to his new family, and his mother found rest next to his father when her time came."

"That was suppose to help your mom feel better?" Zelda asked, scratching her arm. Her dress was beginning to get unbearably warm and itchy with sweat. Was it just her, or were the cicadas getting louder?

"I guess. Afterwards, Grandfather planted an apple tree next to my father's grave. My mother didn't get to see it bear fruit since she died a few months later. I don't know what he was trying to tell her with it, but I know what he was trying to tell me. Keep your face down and don't chase after princesses. A lot of good that did me." Link tossed aside his apple core and stretched. "Din, it's hot."

"Tell me about it." She grumbled.

"Want to go for a swim?"

She gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

He lifted his hands from behind his head in a 'what?' gesture. "You can't tell me a cool swim doesn't sound good to you right now."

She sniffed. "Have you any idea how improper that is for me? And anyways, what would I swim in? My dress?"

"You're undergarments." He said matter-of-factly.

She made a loud noise of indignation.

"What? It's what I do. Nicest feeling in the world." He sighed happily as he imagined, then stood. "You know what, that's it. Water just sounds too good right now."

"Don't tell me there's a random swimming hole around here too."

But he was already walking away through the apple orchard towards the forest of trees waiting just behind them, whistling the _Song of Storms. _She pouted angrily to herself before climbing to her feet, shuddering at the feel of sweat running down her calves from their pockets behind her knees. Cold water did sound good.

"Excuse me! I'm still talking to you!"

"What was that princess?"

She took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Maybe she would put her legs in the water, at least. Yes, that should cool her down plenty, she figured. Anything to shake off this grimy heat. With this in mind she stalked after him, trying to shake her bangs off of her sweaty forehead. By the time she caught up to him he was already stepping down through the trees. Their sparse canopy allowed diamonds of sunlight onto the earth.

"Question," said Zelda, "How do you happen to know so much about the grounds anyways?"

"I always scout new areas I enter into before I rest easy." He looked back at her and waited a few steps so she could walk along his side. "I checked it out before you woke up the first morning here. It's an old habit of mine. Saved my life a few times, though."

"How so?"

"Well, you know, catching spies, mapping hiding spots should I be jumped, treasure—hey beautiful! Come to papa!"

This startled her, thinking he was talking about her for a moment, but then she saw it. Ahead of them down a gentle slope of green grass was a beautiful pool of water created by a lazy river passing through. The water flowed so gently that she hadn't even heard it before they were upon it. Though because of this, the water was slightly murky. She wrinkled her nose.

"Don't tell me you're—", but Link was already unbuckling his belt and pulling off his tunic as he trotted towards the river, hollering happily. At the site of his broad shoulders and chiseled back through his sticking undershirt, she blushed furiously, despite his embarrassingly immature manner. Sure she'd seen the soldiers training before with their shirts off, but they had never come near her without putting on some form of coverings, even while she was watching. Yet before she could catch up and give Link a proper yelling to about propriety (not that she thought it would be any good seeing he'd just throw the 'wife' card at her), he had stripped down to his undershorts and waded into the water, flinging great walls of it as he plowed through.

"Yes!" he cawed. "This is _so nice_!" and he plunged himself in.

"Link?" but he was already half way across and hollering with glee. She sighed again and found a nice, flat rock in which to perch herself on as she dipped her feet into the water. Once she slipped off her own slippers and the cool water met her feet, she understood Link's obnoxious excitement to the water. It did feel nice. She kicked her feet about, tempted to slip farther and farther in, but held her place. She could see her reflection in the nearly clear water. More spots of sunlight glimmered about her features, which were flushed with heat. Her golden hair stuck around her face, darkened with sweat. _Jeremy had called me beautiful,_ she thought to herself, wondering why her thoughts had landed on that. _Hair like unto spun gold, he said._ _He had wanted to bury himself in it and be with me forever._ Forever…but if he had wanted that, why had he given up so easily? Why had he stepped aside for Link Knight without a fight? Then again, had he been considering her happiness? Surely his causing discontent and disruption to the wedding and dueling Link might've only caused her stress and grief. Had he known how she had wished to please her father and do what was right? Had he known about her deep desire to be wise?

But then it occurred to her that she hadn't put up much of a fight either, and that she still couldn't fully understand. _I wanted to be wise_, she knew. She wanted to be a good queen. She wanted to please her father. And yet…what good could she be now? And why was she thinking about this now?

Her reflection rippled, then broke apart. Link appeared in its place, leaning against his arms as he folded them against the base of her rock. His long hair had turned bronze brown with the water and spilled across his collarbone.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you coming in or not?"

But she couldn't respond right away. Something had caught her breath in her throat. His arms were well built, of course, but that wasn't it. Scars. Long scars of various shades ran along his arms and scattered across his back. She had never noticed due to the long sleeves of his undershirt. Now, however, with his bare torso displayed to the world, she suddenly saw it all. The scars continued down his back and under the water. Link followed her eyes, grew nervous, and pulled his arms back into the water.

"Something bothering you?"

"Your…scars…there's so many of them." she said, her voice coming out in a squeak. He glanced down at his arms and sunk neck deep into the water, as though to hide.

"Yeah, scars happen."

Feeling strangely nauseous at the sight, she asked with her hand to her mouth, "What happened?"

"I was a warrior, Zelda." He said flatly, "What do you expect?"

She scowled. "I've seen the greatest warriors of my own kingdom training with the soldiers and none have ever had as many scars. Something different happened to you. What was it?"

He looked up to the heavens, as though in exasperation, "You're so demanding. A more polite person would give me the choice of telling or not, you know. Are you going to have a problem with me now because I don't want to talk about hell or because I don't have gossamer perfect skin like a noble?"

"I said nothing of the sort!" she protested, surprised. "I'm just—I'm just—"

"Revolted?"

For a stunned moment their eyes met. It was as though he were trying to stare her down beneath his furrowed eyebrows. She glowered at him.

"Curious." she said. His sudden defensiveness unnerved her greatly. "Why are you suddenly so sensitive anyways? I was just asking."

He didn't answer right away, breaking eye contact with her and drifting back a few steps into the water. She waited, however, wanting for once to be patient with him, though being uncomfortable always made her angry in some form or another. Finally, he looked back up at her, and this time with his familiar gentle smile. Instantly, she could feel herself relaxing.

"Excuse me, my Zelda." He said, "I didn't mean to be…defensive. You can say I was just nervous about what you would think. You must admit I don't have any reason to have confidence in your good opinion of me."

"Keh," she leaned down to hike up her skirt a bit more so as to not touch the water. "You don't have to worry about what I think. The whole world thinks your some sort of god already. Isn't that enough?"

"I don't care what they think."

"You should. You'll be their king one day."

"Then your opinion of me is even more important." He said softly, yet defiantly. "You see me as I am. They don't see me at all."

Starting to feel awkward and even more uncomfortable, she threw her hands into the air with an angry huff, allowing her skirts to drop back down.

"Fine! Whatever! Just get over yourself and go be stupid in the water already."

"Can't do that yet." He said.

"And why not?"

He dropped down until his chin dipped into the water and crawled towards her. At the gleam in his eye she clenched her arms tightly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You haven't come in yet."

"You touch me and I'll-AHHHH!"

Faster than a striking cobra, he shot out of the water, grabbed her, and flung her behind him dress and all. She floundered for her legs and snapped upright, gasping through a mop of wet hair. Heavy skirts weighed all around her.

Link was laughing.

Hot rage bubbled up from within her. Heat built up all around her neck. Before she could stop herself, before she could even think, she found herself screaming, "_You bastard!"_

Link's mouth closed with a snap. He stared at her in astonishment.

"Why the _hell_ did you do that? Do you have any_ bloody damn idea_ what this _shit_ is going to do to my dress!"

She sloshed towards him, fists raised and teeth bared, but he just continued staring, flabbergast.

"And now I have to ride the whole damn way—"

"Princess…"

"—in a _Din damn wet dress!_ Do you have any bloody idea the rashes that will cause!"

And she was upon him. He took one last look at her…and burst out laughing again.

"Oh, wow!" he cried, nearly drowning in the shallow water with mirth. "The princess knows some pretty words!"

"Damn right I—" and she stopped abruptly, a faint horror sinking in. Well, she had done it. She had lost control. If Hope ever found out she had cursed to her own husband-pressing her lips closed she resorted to glaring at him, barely holding back from smacking him upside the head as peel after peel of laughter over took him. She didn't want to think how uncouthly he thought of her now. She could feel her anger slinking away into humiliation which burned within her painfully. Adverting her eyes from her laughing husband, she moved to get out of the water.

"Where—ha ha ha—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" he took a deep long breath, pinching his nose. "Where did a princess like you learn such sailor talk, dare I ask?"

"If you must know it was my father." She said, grimacing as the dirt turned to mud beneath her feet and squished through her toes. She attempted to wring the water out of her heavy skirts. "Now stop laughing, or I swear something horrible will happen to you while you sleep."

To this, he just smiled as he watched her slink away to another rock to squeeze out more water.

"And vicious too," he shook his head. "You have so much pride that can be so easily hurt. I must say, you're spirit is akin to those Gerudo you dislike so. I wonder how you can stand all these pretenses you have to put up with as a princess. It's unlike you."

"And how would you know?" she asked, not unkindly, but not kindly either. To this, he merely shrugged, leaning more onto his back in the water.

"Maybe I don't know," he said. "After all, you don't like climbing trees." But the way she caught his eyes sparking gave her the impression he had never once believed her lie, though she couldn't understand why. He, after all, didn't know her as a child. He had just met her three days ago. As she turned her face away in attempts to pretend he wasn't there, wishing mightily she was back home, he said, "And you are definatly not adventurous or have a wish to be blown away somewhere."

"Stop talking nonsense." Yet a misplaced defiance had risen in her. The Gerudo was dancing in her mind's eye with her wild red hair and laughing eyes. Her dance had been freedom. And what was it she, Zelda, truly desired? Jeremy? Truly? Or was it the freedom the Gerudo rubbed in her face so much? Throwing her cares into the wind, she stood and untied her skirts. Then she reached behind her and tore at the buttons holding her bodice in place. Link flinched in his position in the shallows and raised his eyebrows.

"Zelda?"

Her clothes dropped around her feet, leaving her only in her undershirt and bloomers. Long blond hair dripped down past her waist. Determined, she stomped towards the water and dove in. Link stayed frozen on the rock. Unseen to her he smiled once more, deeply and knowingly, before diving deeper in as well after her.


	7. The Dragons Love and Hate

Chapter 7: The Dragons Love and Hate

The great birch tree loomed above her, with its branches leaning over the river as though to see its own reflection. She stared it down, her wet underwear still sticking to her skin.

"What are you trying to do glaring at it like that? Catch it on fire?" asked Link, who lounged in the shallows with an apple. "It never did anything to you."

"Oh shut up. I'm going to climb it."

"Yay!" he clapped awkwardly with one hand holding his half eaten apple. "Have fun."

"Only someone like you would say that at a moment like this."

"I am one of a kind, apparently. What did you say about the kingdom thinking me a god?" he tried giving her a dashing smile, but it only brought out a snort from her. "You know if you keeping doing that people will think you have a runny nose all the time."

"Will you stop being so obnoxious? I'm trying to concentrate."

"On what? It's just a tree."

She clenched her teeth. "On not thinking of how I must look right now." Yes. She mustn't think about how she was in her underwear in front of a man—outside and wet and probably see through, of all things. But she was going to climb this tree. Despite her squirming stomach and painfully red face at these thoughts, her determination still burned and she wanted to remember what it was like to climb again. It almost felt like she was chasing the Gerudo up the tree and that now the desert woman was watching her with those laughing amber eyes of hers. She'd show her. She'd show him.

"If you must know, Zelda, you look wet."

She whirled around, wet strands of hair smacking her arms and face.

"Is there a double meaning to that?" she demanded. Link just blinked at her innocently as he chewed on some apple with the same kind of lost look whenever she asked a strange question about his stories. She growled in her throat and turned back on the tree. "Forget it."

The first branch up wasn't particularly high, but it had been so long she had to reconfigure how to even grab onto it and lift herself up. She knew if she stood here any longer, though, she'd look even more incompetent to Link and she wouldn't have that; especially not while in the demeaning position of wearing nothing but wet, possibly transparent underwear. So, scrunching up her face and gathering up her courage, she reached up for the branch and scrambled up. The shock of the rough bark against her feet nearly sent her back down. But her pride was at stake. What were bloody toes to that? Before she knew it she was on top of it, clinging for her life and faintly surprised that her toes weren't bloody at all. Link watched from below, just chewing and smiling.

_What's he smiling at?_ She thought savagely before forcing herself to reach for the next branch. After that it was surprisingly easy, like climbing up a ladder. The higher she went the more thrilled she became and less concerned with how she looked. It was almost as though she were climbing away from earth to a greater plane of existence. How had she forgotten this? How had she forgotten what it was like to go so high? Soon she found herself daring more difficult reaches and spanning greater spaces. She could see the blue sky winking at her through the rustling leaves.

And then she reached the highest branch that would support her, poking her head past the upmost canopy of leaves. What she saw took her breath away. The sparse forest of trees was like a moving plain of grass. Blue with distance were the mountains, hallowed by clouds and all underneath that tearing azure sky that she was now a part of. As she gazed upon it all, peaceful with its beauty, her eyes fell upon the manor in the distance and a peculiar emotion welled up within her. It was as though the Gerudo was sitting next to her, whispering something deeper than words into her ear.

And she began to cry.

What was she doing up here? She was a princess! She was acting like a child. But that freedom of the Gerudo played in her head like a raucous chorus of desert horns and drums and she cried for it. There were no adventures waiting her now. Climbing trees for a princess, let alone a queen, was a stupid and disgraceful hobby—risking her life and therefore her kingdom in a hobby? For what if she fell! And what magic was there out there in the world for her? What freedom was there for her to dance half naked in the sun? What freedom was there for her to climb trees or go swimming in her underwear?

What was she doing?

Her grip on the branch faltered as she bowed her head away. She could not fall in love with this ocean of leaves or this closeness with the sky. She could not love the height or the daring. _What was she doing?_ She wondered once more. What had moved her to do such a foolish thing? And yet she knew she was foolish to believe and take so much in the Gerudo and their barbaric freedom—their beautiful freedom.

"Zelda?"

She covered her face with her hands. "What are you doing up here?" She hated how her voice betrayed her.

"What's wrong? Did you get hurt?" She could feel the tree tremble and rustle as Link found a perch near to her.

"Leave me alone. I'm just being stupid."

There was a brief pause before he muttered softly, "You are not stupid."

Without answering, she felt below her for a branch to begin her way down. Eyes filled with tears she couldn't see clearly and slipped. Her heart flew to her throat. But barely had the fall began when it ended and Link's hand was wrapped tightly about her forearm. She was forced to look up at him as he gazed down at her, his other hand held tightly to the tree. Her eyes followed up his arm and his scars to his face, which was oddly devoid of any markings at all. His eyes matched the sky above him perfectly; that beautiful sky that wanted to break her heart.

Taking in her expression his eyebrows rose in concern and pity. He kept a hold on her hand even when she re-found her grip on the tree.

"Princess, it's only been three days and I've already seen you cry so much. This is supposed to be a happy trip." He frowned ever so slightly. "Did something remind you of that man? The one you...care for?"

Jeremy. At the reminder an odd recording begun playing within her, like an echo of a great pain she knew she must feel. Yet something else seemed more tragic. There was something greater that she could not have. And yet Jeremy…where was her Jeremy?

"No." she said.

"Then what is it?"

"Please let me go. I need to get down."

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"No! Just let me go!"

He complied and she wasted no more time in getting down. Link followed closely behind, ready to catch her if she should slip again. All the while she demanded the dancing girl in her head to stop her motion, to melt, to collapse in the heat of the sun like any normal person would. She was just a woman after all.

% #$4$^&*#$%^#$%^#%$

The moment they arrived back at the mansion, Zelda ordered a hot bath to be delivered to the honeymoon suite. Knowing full well he was not welcome to the bath without having to ask, Link made a half-born excuse about the library and disappeared. Hopefully, no one would ask too many questions about the honeymooners not spending every naked moment together. When Zelda thought about this as she undressed before a wooden tub of steaming water, she could only growl to herself: _Damn people and their damn expectations_.

The hot water felt heavenly after the chilly, murky river. It felt especially good on the sores riding bare back had given her. _Damn riding bareback as well,_ she thought bitterly. She wouldn't feel this horrible if she hadn't gone with Link in the first place. Blaming him for her brief break in propriety somehow made her feel better, but not really. Was being what was expected of her, of a princess, the way she really wanted to be anyways? She knew the answer to that question now was no. But it was too late to change anything. She was sole heir to the throne, beloved daughter of the King, and far too honored by her people to turn back now. She had to do this for them if not for herself or her father, for who was to say what kind of ruler they would receive in her place? That was a risk she couldn't take. Therefore, she would jump through the hoops of royal propriety, make treaties, and even (and as she thought this she was surprised to find herself not grinding her teeth at the thought as she usually would), being married to Link, their hero. She knew all this, and yet…

Before the sorrow could overwhelm her she buried her face in the water. She didn't even fully understand such despair. Where had it come from? Why did she feel it now of all places? Was it because her grief over Jeremy had weakened her? Made her prone to illogical disappointments? _Because honestly,_ she thought, _it's just climbing a tree and going swimming. Why am I being such a baby over not being able to do something so stupid?_ But in her heart she knew that wasn't the real reason, and the real reason wasn't too far away from why she had to leave Jeremy in the first place.

There came a knock at the door. Gasping for breath as she broke from the water, she asked who it was.

"It's just me. Link."

"What do you want?" she asked, none too nicely.

"I was in the library and I found another story from the Gerudo I thought you might like. Can I read it to you?" and as expected, he added, "It might help you feel better."

"Couldn't you wait till I was out of the bath?"

"Well…I wasn't too prone on leaving you to contemplate drowning yourself in it."

She couldn't help herself. She snorted for the uptenth time that day.

"I heard that, Miss Lady." He said, and she could hear the smile on his voice.

"You're so dramatic." She said to this. "Do you really think I would drown myself in the bath?"

"And this is coming from the girl who burst into tears because she climbed a tree."

Her pride bristled. But before she could snap something angry at him in return he hurriedly added, "Look, I just want to help you feel better. You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to. May I come in? I promise I won't look. " And as an afterthought, "It would also secure the safety from the maids, if you know what I mean."

To herself she wondered how he could dare ask such a thing, but at the same time she somehow trusted him to do as he promised. Perhaps it was his ability to sleep in the same room as her for two nights without taking what was rightfully his from her. Whatever the case, she surprised herself by not being completely appalled by the request. She sighed. What was wrong with her?

"Fine." she called, sinking into the deep tub until only her lips were above the water. "But you better not look."

Sure enough, as he stepped in he made not sure not to look in her direction until he was on the other side of the room where the tub walls completely hid her. He didn't turn to her until his boots were off and he was comfortably settled on top of the bed. He smiled at her, unabashed. This unnerved her. Sure he couldn't see anything, but didn't the thought of her being naked in the same room unsettle him?

"So, you want to hear the new story I found?" and as though she needed more convincing, "it's from the Geruuuudo!"

She turned her eyes into the water and said 'sure', lacking the heart to inform him of her change of mind when it came to the desert women. He folded his legs in, beaming at her.

"Oh, I think you'll like it. I found it in the manor's library. Don't think that place has been touched for years, but I found this old volume on desert fairytales. It's called _The Dragons Love and Hate."_

"Why are you so excited?"

"Are you kidding? It's been a while since I've found a new story about the Gerudo. Unlike the Gorons, most of them hush up when I ask them for stories because I'm a man."

She glanced around. "Where's the book then?"

"I just read the story and planned on telling you it. Unless, do you want me to…?"

"No." she sighed, sinking deeper into the tub. "Go ahead. What are these dragons?"

"They were two dragons named Hate and Love that lived high away in the mountains. The only village that lived nearby was left undisturbed by the dragons for many years, even to the point when the people started to believe they had died off. One morning, however, they woke to find a young man dead in the street, his heart torn out of his chest. At first they didn't dare to believe that the dragons had something to do to this, but blamed it on some freak bandit of the night. The village gathered with the mourning family and held his funeral that evening. However, a few nights later, three more people were found dead with their hearts savagely torn out of their chests."

"Gruesome." said Zelda, smirking. "I like how you tell stories."

"I figured you were getting tired of romantic ones."

"I told you that I was."

"Just leave me to believe I have some bit of intuition where it comes to women, all right? Anyways, the village began to come to terms with the fact that the dragons Hate and Love may very well be doing this, though many people wondered how a dragon could make it into town at night to kill without waking anyone up. Their conclusion was that whichever one it was, it had to be stealthy and lightening fast. Many believe it to be the dragon Hate that wrecked this havoc upon them, for what harm could a dragon named Love be upon anything? A week went on without any deaths, with guards standing at the gates. Eventually not only were the guards dead, but four more people lay besides them, their bodies strewn down the streets and their hearts gone. Strangely enough there were no children among the dead. Now in a panic, the villagers sent a messenger on the town's fastest steed to the King with the story of their plight. There, the King received their story with skepticism, for dragons themselves had not been seen for many years. Being wise as well as kind, however, he fetched for a knight still in league with the almost dead society of dragon-slayers to send back to the village. Though the King doubted the possibility of dragons, the knight did not, and left with all he needed to slay any dragon that crossed his path and a noble white stallion.

"By the time he made it to the village only orphaned children remained with a few adults that had never married or had children of their own. The knight thought this very strange of the dragons. He thought them even stranger when the people explained to him how the dragons, most likely Hate, would sneak in at night and tear out the hearts of their victims before leaving them in the street. After swearing to them he was sent from the King himself to slay these demons, the few adults pointed to where their forefathers had known the dragons' caves to be. Thanking them, he left on his way with his stallion.

"The trek was difficult and long. When he finally begun to believe that these dragons the people spoke of were mythical (for honestly, what kind of dragons would be named Hate and Love?), he turned a corner to a deep ravine with great cave on each side. From within both watched two great eyes. Startled he quickly backtracked out of the dragons' view and hiked to higher grounds. From high up he could examine the two caves more closely. In the cave closest to him held the most terrifying beast he had ever seen. The dragon was huge and bulky with gleaming hot red scales, long evil claws, and a mouth filled with teeth while holding a hateful grin. Even as he watched the monster glared at him on his cliff and roared. The sound set his teeth on edge and sent his blood boiling. This had to be the dragon Hate. Looking at the terrible beast, he understood the name that had been given it."

As he spoke, Zelda could imagine the great dragon uncurling before her in its cave. Underneath the water she scrubbed her feet with the bar of soap without noticing. She wondered quietly why the Gerudo would've written such a story with a main character as a male. _He must do something stupid in the end,_ she reasoned.

"The other dragon he could hardly see, for it crouched deep within its cave. All he could see of the beast was its cat-shaped eyes that shown like pearls and opals from the reflected light of the outside world. This dragon's cave was much smaller than Hate's, so the knight presumed the dragon was also much smaller. He contemplated his plan of action. Having never faced a true dragon before, he knew it would be suicide to try and take both of the beasts on at the same time. He also knew that whatever dragon he chose first would receive the blunt of his energies, leaving him drained for the second in both body and in supplies. Noting the obvious ferocity of the dragon Hate, and also remembering the villager's complaints that the killings of their people were most likely the doings of this dragon, he prepared himself to face Hate first."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" asked Zelda, finally noticing the dissolving bar of soap in her hands. She brought it out of the water and dropped it out to the side. "I mean, a dragon personifying Hate would defiantly be worse than a dragon of love."

In response, Link just smiled and continued his story. "The battle that ensued was awesome. The man in his armor with his various dragon slaying weapons verses the great dragon Hate, who had possibly been alive since the beginning of the age of man itself. The ground soon grew hot and melted from the intense heat of Hate's breath. After many close cuts and receiving many burns and cuts, the knight delivered a fatal blow through Hate's bulbous eye and into its brain. With a final scream, Hate fell and died. Instantly, he felt the opal eyes of Love watching from its cave, but it did nothing. So, the knight took his time to bandage his wounds and refresh himself before gathering up his weapons and riding his horse up to the cave of the second and last dragon.

"The dragon remained still even up till the point where the knight dismounted before the mouth of its cave. As the knight took up his sword and met the eyes of the dragon, it blinked and slunk deeper into its cave. If the knight hadn't known better, he would've thought the dragon feared him. Without hesitating, he walked into the shadows of the cave. The first thing he was able to make out was the shadowy form of the dragon curled up in the back of its cave. He had been right about it being smaller than hate. But then he made out something else next to it, just within reach of the sun's light. As he drew near his body seized up with terror. Piled in great bloody heaps and reeking with rotting flesh were hundreds of human hearts. Before he could flee, before he could even move, the dragon launched out from its hiding place. The last thing the knight saw was the beautiful, opal eyes set into a smooth white face before the dragon Love, fast as lightening, tore out his heart and added it to its pile."

Link let the silence go on after his story to show that he was finished. By this time, Zelda's bath had grown cool. She lifted up her raiseny fingers and contemplated the knight's death.

"So the knight's downfall was love?"

"Yeah. It's one of the more interesting stories of the Gerudo I have had yet to hear, but it certainly doesn't break away from their tradition." said Link, adjusting to lean on his hands.

"How so?"

"Well, to the Gerudo love is downfall. To fall in love with a man is considered a tragedy, unless you can use that love to manipulate the man into giving him all his money." he shrugged with a brief, breathy laugh. "Oddly enough, that makes them more attractive to some men."

"I think it's because they're off-limits. People tend to want what they can't have more than what they can, especially if it has a ring of risk." she lifted up her legs from the water without thinking to examine her wrinkly toes. She was only reminded of Link when she heard the creak of the bed and quickly brought it back into the water, her face flushed.

"That's very wise of you to say, Zelda." he said quietly.

"I'm getting out now. You better turn around and keep your eyes closed!"

He chuckled below his breath and she prickled at the sound. What was so funny about that? But he scooted on the bed till his back was to her and, to make a point of it, put his hands over his eyes. Still holding a scowl, she reached for the towel hanging on a chair next to the tub and eased herself out. Wrapping it tightly about her she carefully stepped out. No sooner had she when her foot fell on the bar of soap she had carelessly dropped only minutes before.

It had to be the most painful and humiliating fall of her life. She didn't even have time to catch onto something as she smacked onto the floor like a splayed frog and her towel went flying. Link gave a small shout of surprise.

"Zelda?"

"_Don't_—!"

Too late. He was by her side, his fingers on her shoulder. Fortune smiled down on her by allowing the towel to have landed over her bottom half. That didn't change the fact she was still naked and squashed face first into the floor. She did not dare lift herself up in case her womanly front should be revealed.

"I think you—"

"_Go away!_" she wheezed into the floor.

"Are you okay though?"

No, she was not okay. Her soul had withered away, her ankle hurt, and she felt like she just had the wind knocked out of her. No, she was not okay at all. How dare he ask—how dare he stay there while she was in this position!

Just realizing the situation, Link snapped back his hand as though burned and jumped to his feet.

"I'll just—" but that's all he managed to get out before he left in a hurry, closing the door sharply behind him.

Before bothering to even try to get up she groaned into the floorboards and dug her fingers into her scalp. If only she could die right here and now. When she did try to get up, however, she found her ankle refusing to take her weight and instead throbbing painfully. Clutching her towel around her she hopped to her clothes. It wasn't till she tripped once more and fell against the bed next to them did she begin to sob out of shame. Why hadn't she tried to laugh it off? Why had she just made it worse when Link came to try and help her? And yet he had to see her in such a humiliating, laughable position—it was unbearable! Something Link said came to her mind at these thoughts, and she quieted at them in realization: _You have so much pride that can be so easily hurt._


	8. Prison Singer

Chapter 8: Prison Singer

She didn't want to leave the room once she struggled into her clothes (a simple, blue dress), so she stayed put, keeping her leg as still as possible as her injured ankle throbbed. She knew she should get somebody, probably Hope, to come patch it up in case it was something bad, but she balked at the idea of having to tell the story of how she got this way. Besides, it was probably just a twisted ankle. Though as the minutes ticked on, she soon became aware of just how swollen it began to appear next to her other foot. Outside the late afternoon sun sent long, dark shadows across the room.

The humiliating scene with her sprawled naked on the floor while Link watched kept playing over and over in her head as though her brain were fixated on torturing her. The first time she had to be so revealed before a man and it was poised as a dead frog. Awful, awful, awful…maybe her injured ankle would kill her. Yes, that would work wonderfully! As an hour passed her mind moved to other things, such as her own pride. Was it her pride that moved her to swim across the river and climb up that birch tree? Or was it something else? And what exactly was she so defensive of? What was it that she was…insecure about?

Eventually, a maid came knocking at the door to invite Zelda to supper, but she refused her and the maid left without bothering to check in on her. Probably orders from her father on their privacy, she figured. However, fifteen minutes later the door was kicked open and, to her immense horror, Link stomped in with a tray of food in his hands.

"Zelda," he said, kicking the door back closed. "You're being ridiculous."

Rather than argue back, she stayed quiet instead and tried to tuck her aching foot away gingerly. Meanwhile, her husband went to the opposite end of the room to place the tray down on the coffee table and light a fire from the ashes.

"There's no need to be so embarrassed." he went on, sounding annoyed. "I am your husband after all. You can't go skimping meals just because you slipped."

Her rage sparked momentarily and she moved to retort, but something stopped her and she sank back into the blankets in attempts to hide herself. If only she could disappear. She didn't want to have to deal with Link right now, or herself, for that matter. There was a brief spark and a crackle. A fire slowly came into being. Link straightened, brushing ash from his hands and looked around to her.

"Why are you so quiet? You should've bit off my head by now."

"Just leave me alone." she said.

He paused at this. Then, taking a rag off of the tray and wiping his hands off better, he made his way to the bed. Zelda retreated deeper into the pillows at the sight.

"What's the matter? You don't look yourself. I already said you don't have to be embarrassed."

The remains of her burning pride pushed out a quiet: "And why shouldn't I? It doesn't matter if you're my husband or not."

He acted as though to think about this as he tucked away the rag in his belt and sat himself on the edge of the bed. It creaked with his weight. "I guess you have a point. Is that what's bothering you then?"

"Partly." she looked down. Was it because of her pride too that she didn't want to talk about it with him? Did pride close you up like a clam too?

"Well, then. How about you come over and sit with me in front of the fire and you can tell me about it over dinner." At the look on her face, he added, "Or we could just talk. Hiding here isn't going to help you."

"And how do you know?" she snapped. To her surprise he smiled widely at her response.

"There we go! That's the Zelda I know."

She breathed out an angry puff of air and turned her face away from him. He coaxed her out of bed to the point her feet were on the floor before fluttering back to the couch. She hesitated, then stood, leaning heavily on her left foot. Wincing, she moved to waddle her way to the couch just to find herself wobbling and falling once more. Tears welled up in her eyes in shame as Link rushed over to her side.

"What's wrong?"

She could feel her face burning. "It's just my ankle, don't over-exert yourself."

"I knew you had to have hurt something when you fell out. You did fall pretty awkwardly."

She gritted her teeth as she averted her face from his. "Please, for the love of Nayru, don't remind me."

With a half-hidden grin tugging at a corner of his mouth, he gently slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her up. Startled, she quickly grabbed on to his neck as he carried her to the couch. Before laying her down he quickly nuzzled her hair, sending a shiver down her spine. While she sat paralyzed in embarrassment he carefully took a look at her ankle. At the sight of it, swollen and beginning to purple, he sighed and shook his head.

"Damn it, Zelda," but that's all he said as he lifted her leg carefully and put the couch pillows beneath it. She eyed the bowl of warm stew on the table and felt her stomach grumble. Without having to ask, Link sat the tray in her lap. Happily, she picked up the spoon, eager for something to distract her from the awkward situation. She would rather not have to see Link for the four days left of their honeymoon. Did they really have that long? _Din, this is going to take forever._ But she knew that to some extent this was impossible, both because of him and his nosey self and the maid threat over her head. But why should she give a damn to what they say? As Link settled himself on the floor next to her, she decided she didn't care, and continued to enjoy Hope's stew specialty.

"Thank you." she said, "But you can leave now."

He looked sideways at her and raised his eyebrow. She was once more reminded of the blue sky in them and her desire to be rid of him increased.

"I will eventually have to go anyways to find something cold for that plum that use to be your ankle, but if it's because you're still embarrassed I have something to make clear to you first. So too bad, I don't want to leave."

She just stared at him. She wasn't use to being refused. Growing up everyone, including Impa, had to do as she commanded and leave if she demanded it. The only exception was her father. Not surprised, however, she said nothing and scooped another spoonful of potatoes and beef into her mouth. He waited for her expected response and sighed again at her silence.

"Look, Zelda," he said, adjusting to face her more fully, "I don't think any less of you for an accident. And even then, I thought I told you last night that you could do and be whatever you want and I won't care. You can climb trees, run around like a maniac, hell, you can even swear like a sailor if you want. Your pride is unnecessary, really."

_Was that really only last night?_ she thought. Wow, so much had happened since then. It had felt like so much longer. She considered what he said as she took the roll off of the tray and nibbled on it. He got up to check on the newborn fire and put more wood on it. By the time he sat back down she had her response ready.

"That's also what's bothering me, though. What you said about me having pride. I…isn't that bad? And I'm starting to wonder how much more of a fool I've been making of myself without meaning too. That's all I seem able to do of late…"

"I hate to say this, Princess, but it's hard not to have some self-conscious, over the top pride in your position." He smiled softly at her to tell her he meant no offense by it, or that he still thought no less of her. "It's sort of in the job description. Besides, you're young."

She sniffed. "I'm the same age as you, aren't I?"

"About, yes."

And with a distinct need to justify herself further, she said, "And you're not perfect either! You're obnoxious and immature and…and…"

But he was still smiling kindly at her and this seemed to disarm her of whatever she had to say next. Feeling a bit helpless and plenty of pathetic, she went back to nibbling on her roll.

"No. I'm not perfect. You're right." he looked back to the fire and his gaze grew distant. She was able to recognize the subtle change in him as the other man within him, the one she knew less of, seemed to come close to the surface. She soon forgot about eating as her eyes trailed down his features. His too-long (in her opinion), blond hair, with his head bent down as it was, swooped over his features in curling strands. She knew so little about him. It had, after all, only been three days. And yet he seemed to know her so well. Had they met before? She searched for familiar features of any kind, but all she found was a tiny scar she had not seen before beneath his left ear. So many scars…

Who was this man?

Without thinking she reached out to caress the smooth scar that stood out against his tan skin with its pinkness. Link didn't flinch at her touch. In fact, he hardly responded at all, lost within his thoughts.

"Link," she said to get his attention.

"Yes, my Zelda?" even his voice sounded distant.

"Where did you get this scar?"

His hand came up to touch hers. Once it was verified which one she was talking about, he closed his eyes, his expression wan and the smiles he held for her so often gone weak.

"The story would not interest you. I would not enjoy telling it, for you would not enjoy hearing it."

"Why not?" she couldn't help but be intrigued by his sudden melancholy.

"It's…not a happy one."

Taking his hand in hers, she gave it a squeeze. "Please? I know so little about you. I want to know more." Then, smiling to herself and not believing what she was about to say, "I am your wife, after all. I have a right to know."

This made him laugh, for he knew as well as her how little she liked that sentence. But that only seemed to somber him further once his mirth died down. He gave her hand a squeeze back before pulling it away and letting it drop into his lap. Outside the evening had grown deep and the setting sun sat gold and fat on the horizon. A crow cawed across the landscape. In the silence in which Zelda waited for him, she finished the last few bites of her stew and returned the tray to the table. Link added another log to the fire.

"Well…I guess you could say I got it in a prison."

"A prison?" Somehow, she had not been expecting this.

"It was my brand. My brand to show to the world where I belonged. When I got out I grew my hair out a bit so I could conceal it. It's actually—" and at this he pulled back his hair to show her the entire scar. What she had seen had only been a small part of a bizarre, twisted triangle. She felt a tremor at the sight and a painful catch in her breath.

"Are you saying they…they burnt this—"

"—into my neck? Yeah." He let his hair fall back into place, covering the marking once more. "First thing they did to each new arrival, actually."

"Why were you put in there? Where is this terrible place?" and then in a rush of fervor, she added, "I should tell father about this place and destroy it! How dare they brand a human being like cattle!"

He let out a short breath of cold laughter and opened his eyes once more to look at her.

"This prison is deep in the desert and was used by Ganon for any who opposed him. I, being his favorite number one, naturally ended up there the moment anyone could get their hands on me. You might know the place as Hrathbern."

A chill ran up her spine.

"Hrathbern?" she repeated. "But that's just a myth."

He shook his head. "I assure you, that hell is very real and very effective in its purpose."

She could feel the horror leaking in at the cool expression on his face. The man she didn't know, not the kind, teasing Link, sat there matter-of-factly before her now and she wasn't sure why she had been intrigued by him in the first place. This hard creature was beyond her and far from her reach in another realm. Or was this the true Link and he had always been out of her reach? The hardened, Desert War Hero, Link Knight. Feeling cold, all she could do was watch as he turned back to the fire and to his thoughts. She wanted to distract him from revisiting memories of Hrathbern, but found she had nothing to say that wouldn't sound fake or inappropriate for the moment. So, figuring she wasn't doing much good sitting there and doing nothing anyways, she opened her mouth to say what she was burning to ask.

"Link, what are you thinking about?"

He only hesitated before answering. "About a story an old geezer once told me there. A story of a woman who had died there. Forgive me, I've fallen into a reminiscent mood, I fear. I should probably go get something cold for your ankle now." He gathered up the tray and stood. Zelda made no move to stop him.

"I'm…"

"Would you like me to tell you a bedtime story tonight?" he asked. His voice was casual in attempts to lighten the heavy gloom that had fallen over them. "I've got some more Gerudo stories if you're interested."

"Sure." she said, not knowing what else to say as he walked out. A strange new ache had grown inside her chest. What was wrong with her?

The feeling hadn't left by the time he returned with a rag and a bowl of cold water.

"I would've voted for a good old cold slab of venison, but Hope seemed to think you wouldn't appreciate that." He bumped the door closed and came over to place the bowl on the floor. The sun had set, so the room had grown dark. The fire's light had become more prominent and Zelda noted the dancing reflections of it in the water. After wrapping her ankle gently in a wet, cold rag, he settled himself back down besides the couch.

"Now, story story story, which one would you like most…" he said to himself.

"Link," she said quietly.

"Yes?"

"Could you tell me the story of this woman? The one you heard in…that prison?"

Whatever buoyancy he had been trying to rebuild melted away and the man with the wild eyes returned. He sighed.

"Princes, I don't—"

"It's okay if you don't want to!" she pushed in. "That was rude of me to ask that of you when you're clearly uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Is a part of pride being insensitive?"

"No, it's all right. It's just…I've never really told anyone about any of this before, least of all that story. I'm simply unsure of myself….I probably should start getting use to talking about these sort of things anyways. I hear they can eat you up and drive you mad."

She had heard of that too. Her father would often speak to her of the terrible price of war and what it did to the people. It was not uncommon for veterans who had been in the midst of the bloodshed to turn troubled and partially insane. He had told her of how their screams in their sleep would disturb many as they re-witnessed the horror of being mortal: death; ugly, brutal, and with not an ounce of justice.

Link took a steady breath. "The reason I was captured in the first place was because they were able to wound me insomuch I couldn't run away, so by the time I arrived and was branded I had lost a lot of blood and had grown too weak to do the tasks that were demanded of me. I was expected to die in my cell, but my cellmate, a man name Nath, took pity on me and used his meager rations and his knowledge as an old, battle field physician to nurse me back to health. One night while I was lying there, feeling bitter and mad as hell for getting myself stuck in that pit, some of the prisoners along the hall began to sing. The song was so mournful in the way it was sung and how it bounced off of those dirty walls that I found myself caught up in it. It had been…" he closed his eyes, an enraptured look upon his face. "So oddly beautiful. Even more odd that anything beautiful could be there at all. I asked Nath what they were singing and that's when he told me of a blue-eyed beauty named Katherine.

"Katherine had been just another of the many prisoners that were brought to Hrathbern on a weekly basis. Her story was not unique in its tragedy: she had lost her few month old baby to war and she had taken the place of her husband in Hrathbern, who had been condemned to prison after being caught leading a secret society against Ganondorf. She had been young, newly married and widowed, and very beautiful. The prisoners who had lasted long enough to remember her always spoke of her eyes: bluer than the deepest dye and gleaming like diamonds. Understand, Zelda, that blue eyes are rather rare amongst the desert people.

"A prison is no place for a woman, and Hrathbern was no exception. The work was not designed for anyone but the strongest, and there were not only traitors but full-blown criminals that infested the cells who would have no trouble of conscience in taking advantage of a woman. On her first night, after she had been branded and no one cared for her quiet weeping, she began to sing within her cell in a beautiful voice that stilled all the cells below and above. Nath said it spoke to the darkness and the tired yearning of the bound. Every night after a hard day's work of struggling to stay alive, she would crawl into the moonlight and sing her song for the prisoners. Soon, out of curiosity, many began to get to know her and were surprised to find her bright and hopeful. She soon was singing for the weary, for the sad, for the disheartened, and for the dying with that clear voice of hers. Soon not only was she safe from any preying men, but her work began to become bearable as the prisoners fought to keep her there with them so that every night, beneath the little light that would leak through the bars, she could sing them to a better place. They helped her at their own risk with her work, for if one does not fulfill their work up to standards, one dies."

The sound of her own voice made Zelda flinch as she asked, "What do you mean? What kind of work is it?"

Link lifted up his hands and looked down to them. As he did so, his long sleeves slipped a bit to reveal more scars scattered about his wrists and forearms.

"It depended on what Ganon demanded. At the time I was there we were to mine metals and blacksmith them into weapons. Problem is, only very few were skilled in blacksmithing, so many were burned by the overheated forges and many died in the mines. And as an extra measure to keep the workers motivated and to keep the population of the prisons under control, there was Tribunal every week."

"Tribunal?" she was afraid to ask.

"A mass killing. Those who had grown too weak, old, or did not fulfill their duties to the taskmaster's liking were taken up before the prisoners and slaughtered." His eyes had begun to burn with some inner turmoil and he closed his eyes. "The great stage of sandstone they used had long been died dark by the blood that had been spilt on it. Despite Katherine's newfound friends and her beauty, she was taken there with the rest of the weak soon after the guards started catching on. She had brought hope to the prisoners. She had brought something akin to life back. Hrathbern existed solely to kill such things, so she was taken. In her memory the prisoners, when they felt they were at their lowest, would sing that song of hers that she would sing to the moonlight." And very softly with a beautiful, yet clear tenor, Link began to sing to her, his voice throbbing with some deep sorrow Zelda could only barely understand.

"_Between the light of the moon and day,_

_Besides my departed love I'll lay,_

_Away from the gruesome sun so hot,_

_We'll know love with only stars to watch._

_For only life keeps us apart._

_When I close my eyes to see_

_A different part of the living me_

_I'll hold my lover close, and he_

_Well never again have to leave,_

_For only life keeps us apart._

_We'll meet only dressed in dew,_

_In moonfall kiss ourselves anew,_

_Never again to feel the pain_

_Of being separated again,_

_For only life keeps us apart._

_And death will bring us together."_

He ended the song almost in a whisper. The fire reflected in his glassy eyes. Zelda wrapped her arms tightly around her chest as though to try and keep the terrible ache from imploding her. She wasn't sure what to think. As an afterthought, Link rewet the rag which had long grown warm in the water and wrapped it about her ankle again.

"And they just…killed her?"

"She was a liability. She might've caused an insurrection among the prisoners. Since the number of prisoners was much larger than the number of guards, this would've caused them a lot of problems. It's part of the reason they're so strict on security and why they brand each prisoner before throwing them in. A branded man is useless anywhere else. With that mark, he had no life in the desert."

"But…how did you get out then?"

"Nath…it wasn't till I was to full health did I realize he had been giving me almost all of his rations on top of my own. If I had been fully aware and known what was happening I would've stopped him. He knew he was growing old and that he'd be chosen for the next Tribunal. He told me that while he was up there on that bloody rock he would cause a distraction and I could break free. Somehow he knew from me talking in my fevers that I was after Ganon himself, and that I had found the way to defeat him. He put his hope in me. I tried to save him in the chaos."

"Did you."

He blinked rapidly and looked down at his arms once more, lifting up a sleeve to better inspect them. "No. I didn't. I got a few of these scars for trying."

She looked down at her fingertips, pressing each one with her thumb. She wanted to cry, but she didn't quite know how she felt either. This would be one thing if this was some old grandpa telling her about the war days a long time ago with children on his knees, but this was her new husband with scars covering his body and a war only last year. And this was a real woman like her, newlywed with even a newborn baby…and here she was, a princess, protected so much that she never even knew the true nature of her own subjects. Here she was, prideful and judgmental in her luxury her entire life while Link lived through hell and thousands had died. Where had she been? What had her father been doing? Could Link hate her for her arrogance of the previous three days? At her demeaning him because of his station when she herself had never truly suffered for her own country?

"This is why I was afraid to tell you much of my time in the desert."

She snapped her head up sharply. "What-?"

"Do you know what kind of look you have on your face right now?" but he did not look angry. Rather, he looked guilty and pained. It did not suit him. "Horrible things happen in war, Zelda, but I'm not going to go crazy like those old Veterans—and I do not hold it against you that you've never had to endure the same things I have. In fact I am glad that you didn't have to. I would never wish such hardships on you and this is how I would have had it."

"But…but Link, I'm the Princess. I'm suppose to rule this country. Even though it doesn't matter what country they were from, her name sounds Hyrulian, she could've very well been…" Trembling, she covered her eyes with her knuckles. "And I've heard tales about that place and now to know that not only is it real, but that you had to go there and suffer in the mess-people aren't even suppose to be able to live there! It's nothing but rot and stone and disease—and then to know so many innocent people died there just a year or so ago—" she dug her knuckles in deeper, trying to get a hold of herself so she could appear strong to Link and not the pathetic girl she already knew herself to be. "How come I didn't know? What was I doing at the time? How am I going to protect my people if places like Hrathbern exist? I'm just…I'm just so pathetic, weak, prideful, and foolish…" she sniffed heartily and bowed her head deeper, trying to ignore the warm hands that were cupping around her head and shoulder. "What kind of person am I to be so concerned about being able to do stupid things like climb trees and go on adventures while there are others weeping over their dead husbands and children and—"

"Zelda, that's enough."

"But I've failed! So selfish." Despite the pressure, tears leaked beneath her clenched fists.

"Zelda." He pulled her hands away. The tears that were trapped poured down in cascades. She felt herself wither once more in shame. Never before had she felt so inadequate. Gazing into the sky blue eyes only reminded her of her foolishness of the day before. She struggled against his grip to cover her face once more but he remained firm, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

"You're pride is your protection." He murmured. "You grow so easily offended because you are insecure and closed. You fear for your own feelings. While your pride has made you busy with yourself, you have overlooked your surroundings and those around you as well."

A sob escaped her throat and she clenched her eyes away from him. Why was this happening? Why did she have to even ask him about that stupid place and that stupid story? This was just getting ridiculous with how worked up she was getting. What was going on? What had he done to her? She wanted to swear, she wanted to curse and stomp and rage, anything to distract away from this great regret and pain she felt. So focused was she on controlling her tears that she didn't fight when Link released her wrists and placed his hands on either side of her face. He had moved up from the floor to sit beside her on the edge of the couch. His thumbs gently brushed away her tears. His eyes had grown kind and warm again, and the familiar smile he reserved just for her had returned. Seeing this oddly soothed her and she hiccupped into silence.

"But also because of that pride, you cannot see just how truly beautiful you are. You're wise without ever giving credit to yourself. You love with all your heart and are loyal to the end, and I love this even if it's not me you are loyal to right now. You have courage, you're adventurous, and you have a deep love for freedom. Your heart's desire is to do good and well and to make those whom you love happy. You are even willing to sacrifice your own happiness for the happiness of others." Slowly, carefully, he brought his face to hers and leaned his forehead against hers. "Don't be sad because you are blessed where others are not. It just means you have the ability to share and to serve those you wish who were less fortunate. You were raised protected so that one day you could protect."

"How do you know so much about me?" she mumbled thickly. "You've only known me for three days."

"Oh, no. I've known you for much longer than that. One day you may remember. Until then, I'm not going to bother telling you."

She pouted, pulling away from him to get a better look at his face. "And how come?"

His grin turned mischievous. "To bug you, because, to be honest, I'm rather hurt you can't remember me, so think of it as revenge until you do."

Her jaw dropped. "You're serious, then? We have met before?"

"Certainly." He folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you think I tried so hard to weasel myself into a spot where your father would let me marry you?"

Sniffing furiously, she wiped her face angrily before shoving him off the couch. He landed with 'oof', but his smile had yet to be wiped off.

"Yes, Princess," he said, "suffer for your rudeness in not remembering someone as important as me."

She glared at him.


	9. Lady of the Master Sword

Chapter 9: The Lady of the Master Sword

"Why did you agree to marry him?"

Jeremy stood before her leaning casually against a post in the royal barn. His arms were crossed and next to him a black horse munched on straw. It was remarkable how well the two matched together with their dark colorings. Zelda clenched her clammy hands.

"Because…because…" somehow her mouth didn't want to work as well as she wanted it to. She knew what she had to say, she knew her excuses, but her tongue couldn't keep up with her.

"I thought you loved me. What happened to all our times together? Was that nothing?"

She moved to say no, but her sluggish tongue was beaten by Jeremy. Those dark eyes of his that always stole her breath were burning.

"Are you really this disloyal? Or were you just jumping to have some legal sex like some common whore?"

"No!" she cried, and she pressed her hands over her ears. Link had said that she was loyal. That he loved her for that. But then again, she wasn't loyal to him either. Perhaps she was a—

"No!" she said loudly. "I did not get married for those reasons. I thought you knew me! I care for my people, I had to do what they needed. And I couldn't abandon my father—"

"—by running away with me?" he sneered at her, pushing himself off of the post. "Well, congratulations, Princess. This is the last time we'll ever be able to be together because of your choice." Then with a sudden tremor he bowed his head and brought his hand to his face. "Zelda, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel so awful, I just…don't think before I speak and am expressing how I feel about all this. I didn't know who else to talk to and I was always way too open with you. And you're so…you were the angel of my life. I feel lost now without you, as though the lights have been switched off and now I'm alone in the darkness. I should have never let you go when you came to me that week before the wedding. It was just…I was hoping you'd do something. You are the princess. I'm just…"

She had heard these sorts of words before. Jeremy had always had a dark air of melodrama about him, and that was partly what drew her to him. But it had never occurred to her how bipolar they sounded. Her chest felt like all her ribs had broken and fire was steadily burning away her heart. Guilt, regret, desire, and agony. How could she have caused him pain? But it was for the greater good. For her kingdom, for her father…But why did Jeremy have to get the shorter end of the stick?

Why did she?

Suddenly, a great brightness burst out from behind her, striking deep into the dim light of the barn and sending the horses screaming with fright. Everything became brilliantly bleached with the light-everything except for Jeremy. He stood out in his grey uniform with his black eyes and hair piercing into the darkness like a shadow. Even his pale skin shaded silvery like the moon, somehow untouched by the brightness. He stared straight on into the light, bemused.

"Zelda, don't—"

But she had already turned to the barn doors. As she did so she realized she had never been in a barn at all, but an expansive desert. Its sand glowed white beneath the hot sun. It was this sun that had given off that amazing light. She unclenched her hands to shade her eyes. Before her, dancing to that yet to be heard music, was the Gerudo. As beautiful as ever she turned and twisted, wavering her hips and breasts in and out to exaggerate the beauties of her curves. Zelda listened hard for that distant desert tune.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked.

The dancer paused momentarily to saunter over to her, those amber eyes of hers somehow blazing with the sun above her.

_Is that really what you want? To be at the whims of a man? To be manipulated?_

Though she still ached with the encounter with Jeremy, this question made her angry.

"Look, I'm not the same as you." she snapped. "I have responsibilities! I live in a different world and in different circumstances. I can't just leave everything behind to go be a sweaty floozy in the desert!"

The Gerudo just smiled slyly at this statement, as though she had heard a grand joke and spaced off a bit to continue dancing. Zelda could hear the drums now. They called to her. The chiming zils chattered her bones. An exotic flute moved her to dance. She very nearly raised her wrist and curved her spine to imitate the red-haired beauty, but stopped abruptly. She stomped her foot in frustration.

"I can't!" she cried. "I can't! Why do you keep taunting me?"

_Because it's not what you want. _

"But it doesn't matter what I want! And it never will!" And with this she could feel all the pain and sorrow from the barn just moments before building up to her eyes, burning them. Jeremy. It grew hard to breathe. The dancing woman was growing blurry.

And she awoke with Jeremy's name at the tip of her tongue.

At first she was thrown off by the darkness of the room after dreaming of such great light. She soon realized that the room was not completely dark. From the other end of the room was the faint red light of the embers of the fire. She still had time to sleep. She felt wide awake, though, and could feel the wet tracks of tears at the corners of her eyes. Sitting up slowly, she blinked hard and sighed.

"You awake?" asked a quiet voice from the couch. Against the dim glow of the embers came Link's head and shoulders above the couch back.

"Unfortunately." she said. "Why are you awake? It must be a few hours before dawn, you should be asleep."

"Look who's talking."

She let a faint smile grow on her face. Link Knight, as obnoxious as ever. Pulling back her blankets she stood gingerly on her feet, putting most of her weight onto her good ankle. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the shadowy form of Link jerk forward.

"Zelda, you shouldn't—" but she was already half hopping, half limping towards the couch. Without asking for permission she plopped down next to him. Link barely had the time to move his legs away.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you awake?" she asked.

She could barely make out his face in the dim light, but she thought she could make out a frown.

"It was just a bad dream. Probably what woke you up too, I suspect."

"You're very intuitive, Hero."

"Thank you." He wiggled about a bit on his mess of blankets to get more comfortable and to hand her one. She curled up in it and let her eyes fall on the embers. Their redness reminded her of the red hair of the Gerudo. Her ankle throbbed dully. _Damn soap. _

"Would you like me to put more wood on the fire?" he asked.

"No. It's already warm enough in here." She wondered if it was the warmth that had moved her mind to dream about deserts. Whatever reason, she did not appreciate it.

As they gazed into the embers, both fell into a comfortable, sleepy silence. Outside crickets creaked to each other. Her mind wandered and she grew sober with her own thoughts. Seeing Jeremy again, even in a dream, had reopened wounds. Dwelling on him more served to only bring back the immense pain she had felt in the dream, but it was as though the thoughts were made of something sticky and she couldn't quite get herself unstuck. She eventually closed her eyes to the embers and put her face into her hands. How could a simple emotion make one feel so heavy? So weak? She felt it would be like moving worlds just to stand then.

An ember gave a muted 'pop'.

"So," said Link, his voice so soft it did not break the stillness left over by the silence, "what was your dream about?"

She considered telling him to buzz off, that it wasn't any of his business, but the closeness that had come when Link had opened up to her about Hrathbern still remained, and refusing Link might break that. Then again, why did she care? He was the reason Jeremy must hate her now-why she had harmed him. Because he had been right, Jeremy stood no chance to Link Knight when it came to convincing her father otherwise, or anyone else for that matter. Zelda would have had to abdicate the throne for Jeremey, and besides, Link was what was good for the country. Link was an innocent, yet harmful occurrence in her life. Wasn't he? Yet, maybe…maybe it really had been her choice. Maybe the right choice would have been to decline. Maybe she was a…

"Am I a whore?"

There was a stunned silence. Then Link broke into laughter, which irked her greatly.

"Are you serious?" he asked, a bit breathless.

She glared. "If you're going to laugh at me when I ask you questions you're just going to make me feel stupid and not want to talk to you anymore."

"No no, please, don't take any offense. It's just," a chuckle broke free, "you won't even bed with your own husband and your asking if you're a whore?" He suddenly sobered as a thought occurred to him. His face turned back to the fire and she could see the faint glimmer of his eyes. "That is, unless you—well, I don't know everything about what you did with other men before you married me. Did you, with this Jeremy—"

A chill ran up her spine. "No! Never! Don't even mention it!"

She thought she could make out a faint smile of his. "I take it you're still a virgin then?"

It was good that it was so dark, for her face flamed. "Of course." And she worked to make her voice as solid as possible so there could be no doubt.

And he began laughing again. She moved to stand in indignation, but moving her ankle from the folded position it was in proved painful and she had to stop long enough to grimace. Link forced himself quiet at her movements, reaching out a hand to her arm.

"Don't go. Forgive me, I couldn't help myself. No, Zelda, you are not a whore and I've never doubted your purity. If nothing else, your pride would've stopped you from ever degrading yourself so."

But she remembered her hours in the hayloft and doubted herself. Impa had even said she was degrading herself then. What would happen if Link knew about those secret escapades with Jeremy? Would she have to crush his faith in her? She hugged the knee in of her good foot, the shame overtaking her. It made her want to run away and hide in a dark corner. She had been foolish. She had wandered stupidly after the passions and emotions Jeremy awoke within her, and even though she justified herself that she was still a virgin, she still felt that she had dirtied herself somehow; demeaned herself, as Impa had said. Perhaps the dream Jeremy was right. Perhaps, against Link's words, she was a kind of whore.

"I take it your dream is what brought this up?"

"More or less." she mumbled.

"Was someone accusing you of being one in that dream? And why are you so affected by something a dream person said when it's obviously not true?"

To this, she said nothing. She couldn't decide whether or not to tell, and her throat didn't seem to want to work. This was stepping very precariously into the topic she feared most in telling Link, and that was her own filthiness. That was of her own pain and her own forbidden longing. That was the faint doubt that Jeremy had every right to be angry with her, even if it was just in a dream.

"Zelda?" he pulled her towards him and she let him. The numbness had returned from the first night and now brimmed a dark hole she did not wish to examine. She was late, she reasoned, and she was sleepy. She was being over dramatic, that had to be it. It couldn't be as bad as she really felt. But before she knew it she was tucked neatly between Link's legs with his chest against her back and his arms wrapped snuggly around her.

"Why are you so troubled? It was merely a dream. You're awake now. It's over."

But she just shook her head, refusing to speak more on the subject. And Link, though at often times teasing, would not press her where she was not yet willing to go this time.

"What about your dream then?" she asked a while later when the curtains of the windows had begun to grow silvery with the approaching dawn and she felt that her throat would finally work.

"Just things I was hoping to forget." he said simply. Zelda allowed him to drift off with that and, soon after, drifted off herself without thinking much of the position she had allowed herself to be in.

! #$%%%%$# #$%&%^*^&^#% $ #$! #$#^%*

The next day found her propped up in a chair in a library with a book on folktales she had found, with her ankle raised up on a small poof of a footstool. Hope, on seeing the state of her twisted ankle, demanded she stay off it for the day and Link had kindly set her up in the most comfortable chair there. Breakfast had come and gone and it was nearly time for lunch. The day had started to become very boring (for Zelda had never cared too much for reading), when Link himself crashed into the room, spraying apples from a basket onto the floor as he rushed to close the door.

"Key," he demanded, his face flushed. "Key, where is it?"

Zelda blinked at him, startled by his sudden flustered appearance. "Uh, it should be…by the door?"

From down the hall a young voice called Link's name: a feminine voice. Link seemed very close to panicking as he scoured the wall for the key, very nearly missed it, and quickly locked the door.

"Quick, Zelda! I need you to start—" he shook his head, "No, that won't work."

"What won't? Link, what's going on?"

The girl's voice called his name again. She sounded shy, yet desperate. Zelda raised an eyebrow at him and half closed her book. A sense of foreboding had come to her.

"Why is that girl looking for you?" she asked.

"Shh!" he said simply, pressing his back to the door. "Just be quiet for a moment. She'll hear us."

Zelda rolled her eyes, but felt a twinge in her chest not unlike the time when Link had helped the little maid Dianne in the kitchen. Determined to ignore it, she reopened her book and continued on with her story. It was difficult to stay involved. Especially once the footsteps passed by the door and Link wilted down the door in relief.

"Okay, spill it. What's got you all in a bustle?" she asked, not even bothering to look up from her book in hopes it would make her look more unconcerned and not like she wanted to growl.

He groaned. "It's that little scullery maid. You know, the one who cut her finger the other day?"

"You mean Dianne?"

"Whatever her name."

The fact he didn't care about her name oddly pleased her.

"What about her?"

He ran his hand down his face and groaned again before saying, "The little creep has been listening in on us."

She closed the book with a sharp snap. "_Excuse me?_"

"Not all the time," he assured her, "but enough that she knows we're not on love making terms. She knows about Jeremy too, oddly enough. Or at least she knows you're in love with someone else. She didn't mention his name. But what kind of person listens in on honeymooner's doors?"

Zelda could feel a raging tirade growing in her. Images of dismantling the kitchen in her fury while throwing knives and pots at the maid cowering against a wall flashed across her mind. She remembered the love note that Hope had thrown into the trash and now knew who it had been addressed to. In attempts to calm herself and to be appropriate, she took a deep breath. There was no reason for her to murder a maid just because she had overstepped her nosey, gossipy grounds. When she got home she would quickly have the girl fired. For now, Hope needed the help. Dianne was the only helper the king had supplied her with on this journey.

"What does this have to do with you running in here as though your death were following you?" she said, her voice tight.

Link hesitated, and this made her prickle once more. Sensing this, he pushed himself to speak.

"Now, Princess, please don't be angry. I swear I did nothing."

"I'll decide that once you tell me."

He had reverted back to his cowering, tail-between-legs self once more. She had thought to never again see this after the first night.

Link looked down at the floor. "Well, um, she sort of confessed her affections to me and, uh, tried to push them onto me—rather forcefully, I must tell you."

Zelda wanted to say '_And you didn't kill her?'_, but even she knew that was way too extreme. Honestly. What was wrong with her today? Perhaps it was being cooped up inside too long. At that thought, she shook her head, trying to clear it of the blurring red glaze that had moved in.

"Well?" she pressed.

Link just looked at her, confused. "Well, what?"

"Do you feel the same towards her?"

He looked appalled. "No! Did you not just see me try to run _away_ from her? Rather strange actions from an eager lover, if you ask me. And I didn't even know her name, for Farore's sake!"

"Good." she said simply. Inwardly her rage purred, satisfied with reeking hell on the poor girl's life when she returned to the castle as she had originally planned. Even after she turned back to her book to find her place Link stayed half slumped against the door. He watched her warily. Then his demeanor changed and a mischievous smile played across his face. He straightened and walked about her chair, picking up his basket and gathering apples as he went.

"So, Zelda…"

"I don't like that tone."

He ignored her. "What would you have done if I had said yes?"

Zelda paused in turning a page. Her pinky twitched.

"Why do you care?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said, stopping behind her chair to rest his folded arms across its back. "Just curious."

"You're not curious. You're trying to get me to say something, so stop with this damn coyness and just tell me."

"Very well, since my princess is being so _kind_ to ask. I want you to say something that will encourage me to hope that you've fallen for me. Like admitting you'd try to slay the poor child by horrible means, or possibly slay me, out of jealousy."

In response to this audacious statement, Zelda found herself only saying, "She's not a child."

She could hear his smirk as he spoke, even while she refused to look at anything other than her book. "Of course not. All the reason to hold her accountable for even thinking to approach your dear husband with affections."

Zelda snorted. "Of course."

"Really?"

"No." she turned the paged, taking in a rather gruesome picture of an old troll eating away at a man's torso. She should know what was going on in this particular story, but for the past few minutes she had not been paying attention to what she was reading. "What I should be asking is why you acted so terrified of anyone you'd consider a 'poor child.'"

"If you understood women like I do, you'd understand."

"Oh, I would now, would I?"

"Yeah," he said, rather darkly. "Like this one time I let this Zora woman give me this sapphire of hers without really knowing what was going on. I needed it at the time, so I didn't really pay attention to the details, but more or less I got myself engage to her and for the longest time," but he left it at that with another groan.

"That doesn't tell me anything as to why you, the great Desert Hero who defeated the Evil King, was so panic-stricken by a woman like Dianne confessing her love for you. That just tells me you're romantically dim. That, or hold a strange phobia of denying affections." She paused, closing her book on her lap. "You did refuse her, didn't you?"

At this, he fidgeted a bit. "More or less."

"That isn't a wishy washy question, Link. Did you?"

"Like I said! More or less!"

"Ugh!" She practically threw down the book as she dropped it onto the floor. "Forget it."

Link came and picked up the book, sitting down on the floor where she had placed it in front of her, next to her poofy footstool. He put the basket of apples down and fingered through it.

"I was hoping you'd get mad and jealous at me. Then I could get to reassure you with a kiss," and before Zelda could reproach him angrily for this comment, he said, "Ah! This story! Not a very pretty picture. Why were you reading this?"

"I wasn't really paying attention to what I was reading." she said, rubbing her eyes. "I'm fine with reading, but I've never been much for making time for it."

"You seem to like stories fair enough, though. Why don't you like reading them?"

"It's all the sitting. Drives me crazy."

"Figures." He took one of his apples and offered it to her. "Want one? I got them from the orchard this morning."

She happily took it. He had polished the bright red skin against his shirt and she could see her reflection looking back at her all distorted and round. It reminded her of outside and made her want to move all the more. "Thank you."

"So, you have any favorites in here?" he asked conversationally.

"Well," she said, "there was this one about a great magical sword. The book was more on legends of Hyrule then it was on fairytales."

"Aw, no more Gerudo?"

She said nothing, taking a bite of her apple to give her an excuse not to respond. It tasted every bit as good as she remembered it. Link thumbed through the book and stopped at the story, scanning it quickly. A reminiscent smile came over his face as he read it.

"Ah, you mean the story of the Master Sword. I know this one very well."

"You know every story in the world, Link." she said, rather flatly.

"Thank you for your confidence, but no, I know this one particularly above the rest.

"How come?"

"Well, my Zelda," he turned his suddenly serious eyes to her, "how do you think I defeated Ganondorf?"

She choked on her apple. Link patiently waited for her to stop coughing to say, "And yes, it's real."

"You mean, that story about it being forged from stars by the Goddesses-" she lost her words and could only stare at him. What he was saying couldn't possibly be true. Yet if it was real, it would make sense that not even Ganon could stand against the Master Sword, the bane of Evil and the essence of the Goddesses wrath. But the blade had been a mere myth! A weapon of magic! And surly magic didn't exist on such a grand scale.

But Link still looked somewhat serious, though now it was mixed with amusement at her expression.

"The story about it being forged from the stars and lava is rather off, however. In my searches for it I soon discovered the true nature of the Master Sword and how it had been forged, and also why it had been hidden away for hundreds of years."

Zelda fidgeted. "Well? Tell me!"

"About the Master Sword?"

"Yes! The true story! Not the one in this book." She suddenly glared at the book as though it had offended her in keeping such secrets. He laughed and stood to put the book away.

"Well," he said, "I guess it all begins with a woman named Bounnica Fi. Bounnica Fi was actually an ancient queen over this land in the ancient days, long before the country Hyrule was even a passing thought. In her day, this land was broken up into many country-states, ruled over by tribes that kept their boundaries through almost constant wars—small ones, mind you. When an Empire over the ocean came to conquer her land, along with her kin's, they came in the guise of merely seeking alliances and gave gifts of money and prized jewels to her husband, who was King at the time. What it really was, however, was a trick. By accepting the gifts the empire had accepted it as a loan, pulling her husband and her country into debt without her knowledge. The other surrounding tribes followed suit. When the empire came to collect and found nothing, they took over in a harsh, bloody sweep, justifying their need for repayment in attempts to ruin moral." He fingered the binding of the book after he slipped it onto the shelf as though to ponder its leathery surface. He turned back to her, picked up another apple, and sat down. "Her husband was slain before her eyes and she and her two daughters were brutally raped by the empire's soldiers."

Zelda put a small hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "That's horrible."

"War is always brutal, no matter how it's started. Nothing's changed much since then, I can tell you that."

She couldn't help but shudder. "I think I like the 'welded by stars' version more."

He grinned weakly and continued. "Unlike most who would be shattered and beaten aside by such a tragedy, Bounnica Fi became like a uncontrollable wild fire. The passionate woman was lit aflame with fury and she gathered her tribesmen around her with her story and her beauty. She refused to be conquered by anyone, let alone such men. She became the most successful, fearful warrior queen ever to be known, set on reeking hellish vengeance. It wasn't long before every soldier of the empire that her eyes found were slain and thrown into the ocean, much to the bemusement of the great empire. She almost united all of Hyrule, past Termina and over the whole Kokiri forest. But at the last moment, in the last great battle right before the great queen was about to make her vengeance complete, she was wounded and captured. The empire, angry with her rebelliousness but impressed with her great spirit and strength, sought to use her for their own purposes. Sending their greatest sorcerers, Bounnica Fi was dragged into the Kokiri forest and turned into a mighty sword, imbued with all her fiery and powerful spirit. The blade that came from her spirit was the most powerful and beautiful that any had beheld, and many men rushed forward to be the first to try her. But the moment a man of the empire touched her hilt the sword rushed up upon its wielder and slew him."

"They deserve it." said Zelda without hesitation.

"By the time the sorcerers realized what was happening, most of their company had been slain by Bounnica Fi. All they could do to save themselves was to suppress her power enough to seal her into a great slab of rock. And there she stayed, deep in the forest, her spirit slumbering until one dared to place their hands upon her handle and draw her forth that was unworthy. The Goddesses, I believe, kept an eye on her until the day she could once more be awakened by a man she could trust and support. Heh," he shook his head, "women can be damn scary. Some men are just stupid to think otherwise."

"Is that where you found her, I mean, the Master Sword then?" asked Zelda eagerly. "In the Kokiri Forest?"

"To be more exact, I found her in the Lost Woods. The Goddesses had cursed those woods to protect everyone but the chosen one, who would be capable of bringing forth her true power, from touching Bounnica Fi." He contemplated his polished apple and took a bite. A bit of juice sprayed across his shirt.

"Why does Bounnica Fi not trust so many?" she asked.

To this, Link gave her one of his signature 'you don't know?' looks and finished swallowing his apple piece.

"The woman saw her husband murdered by allies and was raped along with her children. You should be asking who would she trust after that and if she even would ever again. Not to mention they sealed her away before her soul could be cleansed of its burning pain and vengeance. Only trust could clean her of that, and only then could her true power come forth. Only then could she become the Master Sword and Evil's Bane."

Zelda played with a seam in her skirt, contemplating what Link had just told her. If that was the case, then that meant Link, out of thousands of men over hundreds of years, had been chosen. But why? She looked up, contemplating him as he munched away at his apple. She once more got the impression of how little she knew about him beyond the playful, yet kind front he gave to her. Who was Link Knight? And where had she met him before? Wouldn't she remember someone that remarkable no matter how plain they looked? Then again, Link wasn't too plain to behold. No, not plain at all.

Blushing furiously, she flinched when a loud knock came to the door.

"Milady! Lunch is ready. I have brought it up to you."

She groaned. "I wanted to have an excuse to leave this room. Why did Hope have to be so…so…"

As she inwardly threw a fit, Link went to the door and accepted the tray from Hope. He then turned to Zelda with his kind smile.

"Well, then, why didn't you just say so? Want to go swimming? That shouldn't hurt your ankle too much."

Zelda paused in twisting her hair, looking up at him. She faintly wondered how he could dare to ask again after her humilation of the day before, but then she realized it hadn't been so bad and that her underwear hadn't been as see through as she had thought. But...that was besides the point, she realized. A warmth spread through her chest at his kind face. All she had learned of him over the past few days rushed through her head, and she suddenly wondered why she ever doubted that he could've tamed the soul of Bounnica Fi. How could anyone else be a better choice?


	10. The Snow Maiden

Chapter 10: The Snow Maiden

She remembered a long time ago when she had successfully escaped out of the castle at night. At the time she thought herself so clever and brave, even with Impa tagging along quietly to keep an eye on her. Every breath to her was fresher than ever before, tingling with the taste of the unknown. _What would happen to her tonight?_ She remembered thinking. Something had to happen in this mysterious black. Would she find a magical stone that would give her amazing powers? Be greeted by a wizard who she had to defeat to save her kingdom? Get sucked into a portal to another dimension? Not daring to voice her thoughts in case they jinxed her, she merely told Impa to stay on the alert for the uncanny and tromped on through the dewy grass of the castle grounds. Of course, Impa was silent save for a weary sigh.

"I can't believe I finally made it!" she had whispered loudly. "I really gave them the slip, hee! They can't contain me for too long! Lousy nurses, lousy maids…"

Impa just sighed again.

"I mean you'd think with mother all sick and near to giving birth as she is they'd let off on me a bit and give her the attention, but no. If anything they're more alert than ever! I bet mother put them up to it. Yeah, that's it. Having withdrawals from nagging me about being a 'proper lady.' Why is she so difficult, Impa? I mean honestly, nothing can be as boring as being a '_lady'_, or at least it isn't the way she puts it." Zelda let out a puff of frustration as she began a climb up a grassy hill that separated the castle gardens and the small, royal glen. Upon reaching the top she flung herself onto the grass and let the full blow of her triumph sink in with a breathless giggle. She soon took notice of what she lay beneath.

"Look at those stars, Impa! Aren't they beautiful?"

And indeed she had thought they were. Even though they had been a little paled by the light of the castle a ways away, they gleamed out by the thousands. She had thought the sky so black then. Black like velvet and scattered with diamonds. She loved diamonds. Perhaps a diamond would fall from the sky—now wouldn't that be an experience! Or perhaps a great, flying creature as black as this night with twinkling stars for eyes hide up there, watching her. If only she could fly, she thought, then she could fully explore and make sure of it. Zelda shared this insight with Impa, hopping she had any old Sheik stories to back up the idea of such a creature. The great woman carefully sat herself down by the princess, her armor barely clinking. Her sharp, red eyes had gazed up as well and her thick lips, which had before been in a perpetual frown, lightened to a relaxed line. This was as close to a smile as she got on most days.

"Perhaps." she said simply.

"Do you think when my sibling is born Mom will let me do more stuff, you know, 'cause she gets busy with the baby? I mean, like play outside more and maybe even learn some sword play. Because honestly, what kind of stuff happens to Princesses? Nothing, unless you count being locked up in a tower or kidnapped by a dragon. Not like that ever happens, even." A sudden thought occurred to her, one that made her mouth twitch into a huge grin. "What if I get a brother! Yeah! Boys are always willing to do awesome stuff! We could climb trees together and chase fairies and—and when he gets all, you know, grown up, he could teach me swordplay in secret—yeah!" she let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "No one will suspect it. The beautiful but dangerous princess of Hyrule! And then we'll run away and explore the Forbidden Forest and eat funny colored mushrooms and befriend Kokiri and…it'd be _awesome_."

Impa sighed once more, this one wearier than before, but spoke. "Whether or not it is a boy or girl, your obligations will remain the same. Your mother will not care any less for your upbringing simply because a new baby enters the family."

The small girl gave this a moment of thought before allowing herself to wilt. The stars suddenly felt so very far away.

"But…but what if I don't want to be a princess? Can't I choose if there's another to take the throne? Why would they still make me do all this stupid stuff—how will I have a life?" Grumbling to herself, she added, "I'll die if my whole life is this boring. This is so unfair."

Impa glanced down at her, the line of her mouth lowering back slightly. In the pale starlight the black tattoos beneath her eyes look like elongated lashes that had melted and poured down her cheeks. This too sent Zelda's imagination wild, but the sudden mellow mood of her thoughts dampened it from fully birthing new possibilities. Silently, Impa leaned over her and pointed into the sky.

"Do you see that bright star almost directly above us, Princess? The one just above the moon?"

The moon in question that night had been little more than a sliver, like a mark left by a fingernail tip. The star had been easy to find as it stood bright and unblinking next to its smaller neighbors.

"It is a star that you will find never moves throughout the night, though all the other stars may pass by. Many sailors use this star to direct them across the seas, and travelers use it when they find they are lost. That star goes by many names. But the name we Sheikah call it by is Choice."

Zelda raised an eyebrow in her caretaker's direction. "A bit of an odd name, don't you think?"

"Like the night sky," she continued, ignoring Zelda's comment, "life is in constant motion and in constant change. The stars will move whether you want them to or not, and you cannot control them. But there is one thing that will always be constant and one thing you can always depend on, and that is your ability to choose. You may not be able to choose how life decides to pattern itself about you, but you can always choose what you will do about it. And with that is all the freedom you could possibly want."

Of course, being only ten, Zelda only had the attention span to take in so much deepness. Not wanting to be scolded, however, she decided to try her best to be involved with, "So, even if I can't control the fact that I am a princess and born to certain rules, I can still decide whether to enjoy it or not?"

Impa's strait-lined smile returned. "If that is how you see it."

"Huh." And with that, she happily dropped the subject to return to star-gazing and dreaming of black velveteen creatures and hidden secrets.

Three days later, however, the subject returned when her mother died after giving birth to her first, and only, stillborn brother.

Suddenly there was no one to berate her for tearing her skirts on fence pikes and tree branches. No one to scold her for sliding down the banisters or sneaking baby birds into the kitchens. No one to remind her to sit up straight. No one to nag her to use the proper intonations and diction when presenting herself to others. Even her loving father, who had doted on her and her wild ways behind her mother's back, had became too overwhelmed with grief to give enough notice to her doings. In a way, a strange freedom had been given back to her, with the price of an awful emptiness as well that was as black as the night sky, but devoid of any kind of diamond.

There were no creatures in the sky, she realized. There was never any magical item waiting for her to find. The Forbidden Forest could not be filled with Kokiri, for no one lived forever in eternal youth. Fairies were a stupid fairytale told to children. There weren't even such things as dragons that guarded maidens up in towers—for that was just ridiculous. And a portal into a different dimension? Such shallow, stupid, childish dreams that would get her nowhere.

With her mother's death came the death of her wild spirit. No longer did her imagination dance in the lights of mystery. And yet…

Now that she was married and older, she realized the night sky wasn't black like she had thought it was. It was blue and purple, with streaks of stars spanning the entire sky like clouds. With the many facet colors of the stars included, the canvas painted above her could be nothing less than a rainbow. She couldn't believe she had ever thought it to be black before. It wasn't even as dark as she had previously thought. Once her eyes adjusted from being in the well lit house the night lit up with starlight, giving her world a muted, but clear, form. Besides her on a thick quilt lay her husband.

"…and that one right there, the big shiny one just a little north of that constellation," Link was saying to her, pointing before her, "do you see it?"

"You keep trying to get me to see constellations, but unless you had a way to point at them literally I don't think I'll ever be able to see them." said Zelda. "Especially with so many stars."

"No really! This one is really easy to see! Look straight where my finger is." In his effort, he brought his wrist against her cheek and his head next to hers, so as to better align her eye to what he saw. "Don't you see that triangle made by three bright stars? One of these stars is shaded a bit bluer than the other. That's the one."

And to her amazement, she thought she could see it.

"Wait…is it below a smaller set of stars sort of shaped like a crooked square?"

"Yeah! That's the one! That star and its triangle connect with the closest bright star and that funny little square," his finger moved across her vision, "to form the constellation Yeta, which is Ancient Hylian for the Snow Maiden."

"Snow Maiden?" she examined the vague outline she could see. "I don't see any maiden up there, let alone anything at all."

"Well, you've got to use the blank spaces in-between the stars as well. That funny square of stars makes her head. It's bowed to the side, as though she is weary. Can't you see?"

She cocked her head to the side, tickling the back of her neck with her smooth hair. "Sort of."

It was then she suddenly gave notice to their close approximately. She didn't know why, but this made her hyperaware of his warmth in the cool, night air. She could hear his throat rumbling with his voice. How strange. To this she just smiled, oddly peaceful. The night brought back that same sense of mystery she had felt that night so long ago, and for once she dwelt on it with a luke-warm fondness. Link's voice somehow added to the soothing affect of it along with a chorus of crickets.

"I'm guessing you've never heard the story of the Snow Maiden, have you?"

Of course he would mention a story. But Zelda was finding more and more that she didn't mind his stories as much as she thought she would.

"No, I haven't."

He let his hand fall. "Not even the Hylian version?"

"Nope." she said. "Why? Is it important?"

"I guess that all depends on who you are. The version I'm fonder of is one told to me by the wife of an Abominable Snowman."

"Abominable—excuse me?" She had to pull her head away from his to give him a sharp look.

"Abominable Snowman." He smirked at her. "Don't tell me you've never heard of them either, have you? Goodness, Zelda, you need to get out more."

Instead of huffing, she sighed and rolled her head back to face the stars. "Tell me about it."

"Well, the story of the Snow Maiden, in all its versions, circulates around a young woman somehow connected with the winter. In the Hyrulian version she is simply a girl that came to life after an old couple built a girl out of snow in their desire to have their own child. The Snowman's version, however, is quite different. In theirs, the Snow Maiden is the spirit of winter. Her story came from a land that knew no winter, but when she still dwelt in the land, winter would prevail and the whole earth would be put to sleep under a blanket of white. All the men knew her somehow through instinct. Long before they knew her name, they made one for her that was simply _Adour. _The stories they told of her were always the same, starting with a peasant resting alone in a clearing, burning a small flame for warmth in the dead of winter, and then suddenly seeing these sky-gray eyes of hers watching. Many would call to her, inviting her to the fire, but she always kept a careful distance, unaware of their ulterior motives. They knew of the beauty that would be revealed by Adour stepping into the light of the fires: skin like snow and fair breasts like snowcaps hidden beneath a blizzard of hair. But they also longed for the spring she brought with her when their fires melted her away."

"Sounds beautiful. But it seems kind of sad," she said. A cool breeze brushed over her and she shivered. Link, noting this, sat up to reach for the far edge of the quilt to pull over her. His kindness, for once, made her smile and she thanked him.

"It is sad." he said. "Especially after a while when they begun a contest out of her and grew deceptive and cruel in their attempts to lure her out. They would sing to her of beauty and love and promise her warmth and kindness. They would do all sorts of fanciful tricks to impress her, tell her stories, lie to her, do tricks for her, anything to bring her end. But the moment she came even close to the fire it would melt off her clothes of snow, her protection, and she would drop naked and cold to the ground. One winter she didn't come out. She simply refused to be tricked again. Men went out into the bitter cold, but no matter how they would sing around campfires or sing sonnets to the empty woods, there was not sight of her. Just ice and snow. Soon the time for spring had long gone by. The summer months passed filled with snow and the people's reservations of food had begun to grow thin. By the time many had died from starvation, another winter had passed, skipping over the other seasons completely. Many beseeched the King of that land to find a way to tame the Snow Maiden. Many of the men who had before lured her out had gone crazy with hunger and sought to slay her with their bare hands."

Zelda had been tracing out the constellation in the sky as he spoke. She thought she could see her, the Snow Maiden, now. Stars still dusted behind her, blocking out any kind of blank space Link had referred to, but she thought she could make out her long, wavy hair in the way the starclouds rippled behind her.

"It's really their fault for treating her like that." She said, frowning to herself.

"Why do you say that? What other way were they to survive and bring spring if they didn't draw her to the fire someway?"

"But she was lonely," said Zelda, and as she said this she was reminded of the long expanse of snow of Hylian Field in the winter time. It always grew silent in winter, and Zelda couldn't help but think _lonely._ Winter was lonely. Winter was cold and empty. Was it really the Snow Maiden's loneliness they were trying to melt, even if at the same time they were taking advantage of it? She suddenly recognized Impa's star Choice in the sky a little ways away and wondered, in her being born a spirit of the winter, Adour didn't have a choice in the circumstances given to her, much as Zelda being born a princess had done to her.

Link had brought his head next to hers once more. He pressed his forehead against her hair and his breath out blew over her collarbone in a warm gust. It made her shiver faintly. She wasn't sure how to treat Link for getting this close to her this time for no apparent purpose. But before she could say anything, he was speaking again.

"Finally even the King had nothing left but his son to send from his castle for firewood to warm his gruel. The young man had been quite young, no more than sixteen, and only knew of Adour as a monster, insatiable for her want for human life. He knew well to fear her by then, for he knew it was her that caused this great death to come upon his people. So he dressed himself in furs and his father threw his royal mantle over him for warmth."

"Will you stop it?" she said at last. Link paused, his hand just brushing hers. His breath smelled faintly of something earthy and fresh, and this kept distracting her. She was eager to hear the story and had started to become frustrated with his proximity. It was hard to listen with him nuzzling into her hair like that. Not to mention it reminded her far too much of how Jeremy would do the same thing.

"Stop doing what?" he asked innocently.

"Panting all over me like that or whatever you call what you're doing." With a huff she shoved him away, to which he just smirked at her.

"I'm sorry. You're hair is just so soft."

She felt a fluttering in her chest at the words. Yes. That was something Jeremy had loved too. But why did she keep thinking about him? This wasn't the time for that. But she hadn't cared so much before. Determined to not get confused, she merely gave him a warning look. He pouted at her but flipped back onto his back. Instantly, she found herself missing his warmth as the cool night came back in.

"Do you still want to hear the rest of the story?" he asked.

When she quietly agreed, he continued.

"The young man didn't know that he wasn't alone at first. But when he reached the deeper part of the woods, he turned to see a pair of stormy grey eyes watching him. The eyes belonged to a girl of the likes he had never seen before, with great cold storms whipping about her. He drew near to her, colder and colder, with only the desire to get closer. He should have had the desire to slay her, but he did not see the monster in Adour as he thought. Instead, all he saw was a beautiful girl in need of shelter from the cold. As he came to her his fingers reached through the arctic air to brush off her mantle of snow, which was as soft as fur. In turn she reached out to him to take off his father's mantle as well, the frost melting off of her skin to leave her bare and naked before him. After that, many said she led him away into that deepness where she came from. Soon thereafter the winter snows melted away and the kingdom experienced a warm, fruitful spring. The King sent out scouts for his son, but all they found was the royal mantle with not a sign of blood or even bones to bury. When fall came in it skipped right into spring, so the men were forced to work and toil from one season to the next. Two, three, and four years passed without winter and on. Because of this the Kingdom had great prosperity. Yet the King forever mourned the loss of his son."

Zelda's mind went elsewhere with this. The Snow Maiden of the heavens had become more and more visible to her by the minute. She could see the whirling snow of stars about her and the weary patience of her bowed head. She thought she could even make out her figure in the blank spaces between stars, with breasts as steep as snowy mountains and that storm of hair about her head. She thought nothing of Link's hand slipping into her own as she stared up at her.

"The Abominable Snowmen believe themselves to be children of the young man and Adour, raised in the mountains where there were eternal snow and cold."

"Oh," she said simply. Unbidden the Gerudo reappeared in her mind, and she thought of how Adour had to be the complete opposite of the feministic Gerudo with her dependency of men. Time after time she was betrayed until she finally found her young lover. The Gerudo, on the other hand, one time was enough to know men weren't worth it. And yet her vengeance had to be just as deadly. To this, she couldn't help but smile and think more to the truth of the star of Choice. Both seemed to have similar circumstances with no control over how they were treated by men, and yet they choose in such completely different ways how to react to them.

As Link continued to point out stars, her mind wandered. Desert suns, blurring snows, and that image of the endless sky imprinted into her mind from when she had climbed that tree. What had happened to her sense of choice? What had happened to her wild spirit she thought had died eight years ago? What could it be that she was missing? She could remember the desire to run as fast as she could without a thought to her own weight so clearly now; of the wind sweeping by and carrying her away to that childish dream of the black creature in the sky with stars for eyes. And yet at the same time, her adult dreams of Jeremy frequently crossed her mind and she wondered to him, as well as to the growing respect she held for Link. With her head spinning at this point, she attempted to clear her mind and listen to Link as he went on about another constellation. But she hardly got even a gist of the story. A sense of unease coming over her, she tugged her hand from his grasp.

He sat up abruptly. For a brief, startled moment she believed it was because of her quiet rejection of him holding her hand. But as he sat stock still, eyes elsewhere, she could sense it was something quite different. Concerned, she sat up as well, the quilt wilting off of her shoulders.

"Link?"

He didn't respond to her right away. She could almost see his very neck muscles tense. His ears were perked. Then, after a minute or so, he turned to her, a casual smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I think we should turn in for the night." he said simply, "It's getting rather cold, don't you think?"

"Are you sure-?"

"Oh yeah." He said. The forced tone of normality to his voice unnerved her. Nonetheless, she stood and helped him gather up the quilt. His unease infected her.

"Link, what's—"

"Later, Zelda."

The sudden hardness snapped her mouth closed. All the way back to the manor she didn't say a word, her eyes watching him for further signs of apprehension. The empty halls of the manor appeared to only make it worse as she watched his hands crunch into fists. By the time they reached their suite, Link's mysterious tension had only worsened. The first thing he did was to shut their curtains tightly closed. Zelda found herself tracing the tiles again in her nervousness.

"Link, please," she said, trying not to sound to whiney or uneasy, "what's going on?"

He didn't answer until he had tightly closed the door behind her. As he passed, she took note at his heavily furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm not quite sure. I just…thought I saw something." he said unevenly.

"Like what?"

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, as though to clear it. The crease between his eyebrows smoothed over and he turned to give her a reassuring smile.

"It's probably nothing. If it is anything the guards are posted all around the manor, aren't they? Yeah. We're fine." though it sounded more like he was telling himself that rather than her.

But the infectious air had unsettled her, and she found herself biting her lip. She tried to force her tracing toes still.

"I'm sorry for worrying you." he said.

"But didn't you say if you wanted to you could take all the guards at the same time? Father didn't give us many guards."

"But that's me, Zelda, besides—"

"Please just tell me what you saw, you're making me nervous." she broke in, as calmly as she could. The warm fire had yet to melt away the certain heaviness that the air had adapted. Link hesitated, his eyes shivering as they jumped from eye to eye on her face. He rubbed the back of his neck and broke eye contact.

"I thought I saw someone, a few people, actually. I was more unnerved by the fact we were out in the open in the dark than the fact that I didn't recognize them. Not to mention I left what little weapons I brought in here…"

A chill ran up her spine. At the look on her face, he became flustered. He waved his hands before him.

"Please, Zelda, don't look at me like that. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

"But—"

"And besides, I told you, I could've just been seeing things."

He pressed so hard with this that she let go of the argument, allowing her fear to go out in one breath. She allowed herself a few moments to breathe as Link waited to be sure she had calmed herself. But once she had reassured herself, she found herself embarrassed of her mistaken anxiety, and in turn, angry.

"Why the _hell_ did you have to act so jumpy then? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

He grimaced. "I'm sorry, really, I am! It's just habit-"

"Well damn your habits, I'm going to bed." And with that she marched across the room to her trunks. From behind her she could hear Link let out a heavy, weary sigh that suddenly reminded her of the sighs Impa often gave when she had done something particularly reckless as a child. It occurred to her then, as she dug out her nightgown, how Link had strangely brought out the child in her more and more every since she had met him. Was that normal in marriage?

Marriage…ugh.

After telling him to turn away she quickly slipped into her nightgown and flopped onto the bed with her hairbrush. As she went at tugging the ribbons and braids out of her hair, Link cautiously moved to remove his own boots and tunic. Zelda had grown somewhat use to his undressing to his undershorts after the swimming incident, but it didn't stop the heat from crawling up her neck when he tugged off his shirt and she caught a glimpse of his chest. Riddled with scars or not, she could not deny the way each muscle was clearly defined under a layer of sun-kissed, plush looking skin. She quickly became flustered and went to attacking her hair with the brush to distract herself. It didn't matter to her that they were married. It still felt like some sort of betrayal on her part and she interpreted the sudden tremors in her torso and lower body as something dirty and shameful. She could not degrade herself to feel like this. She was above such petty things. And yet she was not blind to them. She was not that naïve, thanks to Jeremy.

At that thought, any sensation of heat inside her chest turned cold. The brushing of her hair slowed till she simply sat there, her brush propped against her shoulder, and her eyes staring unseeingly at the off-white wall. But why did her lack of innocence make her feel so…

Warm, but rough, fingers brushed through her hair, catching her off guard. She flinched at the touch. Link had approached without her notice and leaned against the bed as he stroked her hair. To her disgruntlement, his shirt was still off and the return of her tremors only increased the painfully chilly guilt in her chest. His eyes once more regained that unfathomable softness as he looked down at her. She quietly noticed how well his dark gold hair complemented his blue eyes. Ever so softly he continued to finger her hair, sitting himself besides her.

She vaguely wondered why she hadn't smacked him yet.

"Beautiful. You're very…" but whatever he was about to say somehow got lost and his fingers paused at the beginning of her jaw line, strands of her golden hair intertwined between his fingers. Very gently, like the time he had held her like glass at their wedding, he traced his calloused fingertips across her jaw. Something snapped within her, demanding she put a stop to this as the hot tension within her begun to squeeze her breath away. Her gaze had fallen onto his broad shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice coming out very unlike the harsh snap she had intended.

He paused. Blinking as though just awakening to his own actions, he pulled his hand away and put some distance between them. He forced himself to look the other way, running a hand through his own hair.

"I'm sorry…that was uncalled for. I should have asked before doing something like that. It's just…" but he shook his head. "I should put a shirt on. These scars are probably making you really uncomfortable right now, I'm sorry for not considering that." And he moved to stand.

"Wait-" but whatever she had to say she herself would never know.

For at that moment a window crashed open with a startling bang. The curtains billowed out. A dark form had appeared crouched in the middle of the room, silhouetted by the fire.

Link whirled around. Two more figures wrapped head to toe in black leapt in to join the first. She didn't even have time to scream as they shot forward in a blur, metal blades flashing at their sides. Faster than he could curse, Link yanked out a sword from underneath the bed. Yet before he could unsheathe it they were upon him.

She cried out his name as he was enveloped in black. One of the men reached for her. But the moment his fingers touched her Link reappeared to hammer his fist across the man's head, knocking him to the floor.

"Run!"

Adrenaline rushing from her panic she scrambled off the bed and lurched towards the door just to be set upon by another man, who grabbed her by her neck and slammed her against the wall. She gasped for breath, stars popping before her vision. He lifted a long, wicked stiletto, filed to a fine point before her. Out from between the folds of black peered a pair of dark, deep eyes. Her world around her froze. Jeremy. Could it be?

But soon he too fell underneath Link's heavy fists. She fell from the wall, coughing, but not before she caught sight of the furious, feral blaze of the Desert Hero's face. The black man didn't even stand a chance as Link lifted him off the floor and slammed his body across his knee with an awful crunch. The last black man dashed forward with knife in hand to snap his arms around his neck, bending him back nearly to the floor to slice his throat before Link, his teeth bared, heaved himself back, flinging his perpetrator against the wall. The man's own dagger flew from his hands. Link retrieved his sword.

And at last unsheathed it.

With a thrilling burst of horror Zelda clenched her eyes shut with a cry and turned away, clamping her hands over her ears. But what was she doing? Those dark eyes! There was a harsh cry—a whistle of a blade through air—a thud and groan-

"No!"

But all there was left was silence. Not even Link's heavy, but even breathing could break that silence. An eternity spun within that awful quiet. She couldn't pull her hands away. She couldn't open her eyes. Her heart pounded heavily in her ears, and for a moment behind her eyelids she could once more see the livid fierceness of Link's face, so strange and unfamiliar. It chilled her.


	11. Intermission

Chapter 11: Intermission

"Zelda!?"

She heard his sword clatter to the floor and the thump as he dropped to his knees before her.

"Are you all right? It's okay to look now, it's over. You're safe." But when his fingers touched upon her wrists to pull them away, she flinched back reflexively. This gave him pause.

"Zelda…you're trembling."

Knowing that she had to know, that she had to find out sooner than later, she braved to drop her hands from her ears and open her eyes. The first thing she saw was the glittering of Link's crystal marriage pendent dangling from his neck, but her eyes went instantly to the black figure behind him.

"Take off his mask."

"What-?"

"Him!" she pointed a quaking, pale finger. "Take it off right now!"

He stared at the shrill tone of her voice, but obeyed and moved to the still form. His various scars shivered with each movement of his arms as he slowly unwrapped the man's head. His black clothing was damp to one side. When the face finally begun to be revealed, relief as she had never known poured over her and she couldn't look away. The man's skin was the same color of chocolate; far too dark to be Jeremy's. His nose was also too large and hooked and his eyebrows too thick. Not to mention the man's hair was long. This was not Jeremy.

Link looked back to her with the man's mask still in his grip, his expression lined with concerned. Any hint of the feral fury she had seen just moments before had vanished and the Link she knew had returned. However, as he approached once more and his eyes found the marks of the man's hands around her neck, she found herself tensing instinctually as the fury flickered behind his eyes. Carefully, he reached out a finger to lift her chin to view them, but stopped abruptly. His eyes quivered on her face.

"Zelda…please, I…I won't hurt you. There's no need to look so…" but he trailed off weakly, withdrawing his touch. She felt for her face and suddenly recognized that it had scrunched up in terror. She couldn't shake off that expression—that expression he had had as he pulled the man off her and drew his sword.

A frantic knocking came at the door.

"Your Majesty! Is all well with you?"

Before waiting too long, Hope burst in. The moment her eyes found the bodies strewn all over the room, her hands went to her ruddy face and she gave a scream. Link winced at the noise.

"Wha—wha—good gracious!" at last she spotted Zelda curled up in the corner. Completely ignoring the half naked crowned prince and the bloody sword besides him, she bowled through to throw her arms about her. "Princess! Oh, darling, what has happened? Speak to me! Are you all right?"

She forced herself to speak, if not to save herself from being smothered than for Hope's sake. "Yes, I'm fine. Please, I can't breathe."

Hope released her, apologizing furiously before launching into a rant about the guards.

"Clearly this has been some sort of attack! Where is that worthless band of rags? Why didn't they prevent this? They're not doing their duty at all! I told the king keeping them at a distance would be a mistake, and look what has happened? For the love of Nayru, if I don't see them within the next five minutes I am going—"

"Please, Hope," broke in Link as he picked around for his clothes. "We need to act quickly. Will you lower your voice and please close the window and curtains for me? Swiftly, now."

Hope hesitated for a moment, her lips pursed in a question, but she did as told and moved towards the window.

"Look somewhat devastated while you do it." Link whispered as she passed, shaking his head furiously when she paused to look at him questionably. Once she had done so, Link straightened and pulled on his undershirt.

"They're very possibly more of them," he said. "And they might be waiting to receive their comrades. It also isn't unlikely that they have killed the guard by now and have surrounded the place."

Hope's face paled till even the rogue blotches of her cheeks disappeared. Link shuffled around for his pants as she blubbered for a response.

"S-s-surround—those killers are—"

He continued on forcefully, ironing over her growing terror before it could get worse. "This is what I need you to do, listen carefully. Zelda and I can't be seen. I need you to go down stairs and call the guards in. There is a way to do that, I presume?"

"Yes," she muttered, "yes, there's a bell that on hearing they are to return immediately to the mansion right outside the kitchens."

"Good. Ring them in. If any come we can receive a full report from them. If none come, then…we'll go from there. They shouldn't be too far from the house, right?"

Hope nodded mutely.

"Then go! Quickly! And don't say anything about us still being alive."

And she jumped into action, floundering back out the door. The moment she was gone, Link abandoned his belt on the floor and came to Zelda, his hands uncertainly reaching for her.

"Zelda, we need to get ready. Can you stand?"

She nodded mutely and moved to stand, just to hiss in pain as her sprained ankle, which had been quite quiet ever since the cool dip in the river, smarted with her weight. She ignored it and pressed on for her housecoat. Link followed after, retrieving his belt once more along with his windsock hat. The cold floorboards beneath her feet felt surreal as she walked around the fallen bodies of the men. Her stomach gave a jolt as she noticed bright, scarlet blood pooling onto the floor around one, and for a brief moment she thought she would vomit. Was blood really that bright of a red? It almost didn't look real.

Link buckled on his sword as Zelda threw a dress into her trunk in a daze, searching for her shoes.

"They're…" she murmured, but the words wouldn't come. What was she trying to say? What could she say? Just a moment before they had been moving and very much alive. Was life that fragile that it could disappear within seconds? All that struggling and growing and strife made gone and meaningless within a blink of an eye?

"Link…are they…dead?"

She heard him pause in shoving on his boots. In the distance a deep chime of the kitchen bell echoed across the house and grounds. With a sensation like a dream she was reminded of the Temple of Time's bells on her wedding day, chiming out that neutral, oblivious tune.

"Most likely." he said dryly.

Her mouth felt dry. She collapsed onto the top of her trunk with her slippers. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking long enough to slip on her last shoe. In the end she dropped it and instead of picking it up just stared at it, not sure what she was seeing. Link's hands appeared in her vision and his warm fingers wrapped about her foot and her slipper. She couldn't make out what he was feeling or thinking behind his thick, golden bangs as he gently slipped it on for her.

"Come." Those warm hands, rough with calluses, took her own. "Let's get you out of here."

He led her to her feet and helped her gingerly make her way to the door. As Link snapped the door close, a bundle of white and orange red came hurtling around the corner, nearly crashing headlong into them. Dianne, in a white nightgown and with her orange hair free to bounce about in a great, curly mass had appeared, panting.

"I heard—"she gasped, "thumping—assassins—ninjas, are you all right, Link?"

Even through her daze Zelda couldn't help but scowl at the girl's inappropriate familiarity. Yes, the little maid didn't know what wrath she had kindled against her. Link, however, was unaffected.

"Yes, I'm fine, and it's Sir Knight."

A blush blossomed over her features, contrasting them horribly to her hair.

"Of course, I'm…I'm sorry." she said.

"How many servants remain in the manor?"

"Uh, well, there's maybe two maids, a man who takes care of the horses, and another man who helps him to drive the carriages. Oh, and Hope and myself."

Zelda couldn't help but marvel at the efficiency of her father. Only that many? Then again, there was only the two of them to look after, but her father wasn't the one to under-burden his daughter with assistance. No sooner had Dianne finished listing off the servants did a loud puffing up the stairs announce the arrival of Hope.

"Nothing!" she burst out. "None came, your Majesty!"

Link's expression darkened and his grip on Zelda tightened ever so slightly, but he didn't appear surprised in the least.

"All right," he said, "In that case I need you to get a hold of the men servants. Tell them to prepare a carriage immediately. And while you do it, don't bother being quiet, but make it sound as though you've already found us dead, okay? Maybe if we get them to believe their successful we'll have a chance of getting out of here."

"Getting—getting out?" Hope spluttered. "B-b-but sire! We're not going out there, are we? What if the guards just—"

Link cut her off with a hand, frowning. "If they've already taken out the guard, there's little chance I can protect everyone on my own."

"But can you be sure that there's anymore out there?" she asked. "What if it was just the three that killed the guards?"

He shook his head. "No. These were desert folk, and most would've never approached this sort of mission with just three. Three is an unholy number and everything done in three to them is doomed to fail to them."

Hope deflated with her last defense. Dianne was clenching her hands so hard her white knuckles and fingers almost blended in with her nightgown. Zelda found herself secretly hoping she'd sprain or break one of those slender fingers, especially the bandaged one held with obvious care.

Link turned to Dianne, who jumped at the sound of her name. "I need you to get some big sheets and spread them out on the floor of the main hall. Get the maids to help you and then have them do what they can to help the men."

"Sheets?" she blinked at him. "But why sheets?"

"Just do it!" he snapped, and she squeaked at Link's sudden aggravation. She hurried off to do as he had ask, Hope following thereafter. "It's impertinent that you and I remain hidden now. Are you doing all right, Zelda?"

Despite the fact that she felt far from it, she found herself responding in her usual way. "I'm not a flower, you ass. I'll be fine."

Link smiled widely and it finally reached his eyes.

"It's good to see you are doing better."

The servants moved quicker than Zelda expected. She worried about the men who moved outside to prepare the carriage and didn't know why Link never mentioned the possibility of them getting attacked as well, but they returned untouched, though as distressed as the rest. When the sheets were spread about the hall floor Link had Zelda lay down in the center of one. As he proceeded to wrap her up, he explained the plans.

"We want it to look like you're carrying out our bodies to the first carriage. As I said before, if it looks like the assassins' missions were complete, they may leave you alone—maybe even follow us so you can be free to pack up and use the second carriage to get back later, especially if the guard ends up coming back. We only know so far that we are the target." He tugged on his newly made wrappings. "Can you breathe all right, Zelda? Anything I need to change?"

"I'm fine." she grumbled. Her breath came back at her hot and moist. She felt like she was three or four again and trying to hide away in the sheets.

Link gave instructions to Hope to play the part of the distressed overseer as he allowed himself to be wrapped up as well. Her heart pounded away in her chest as she felt herself be picked up and carried first to the door. She couldn't feel the night air, but she could sense it, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. Link assured them that there had to be more out there, but if they were what the hell were they doing leaving the mansion? Going out in the open? But she didn't dare make a noise. The fear of even twitching paralyzed her. She wondered dimly if she would faint before reaching the carriage.

There was a click. A horse nickered. She heard Hope somewhere behind her weeping loudly. The dreamlike sensation came over her once more and she wondered back to the room with the dead men. She wondered to the stars she had been gazing on just an hour or so ago, but which now felt like ages all due to this strange, otherworldly panic. Nothing had changed, really. She was just going home in a different fashion. But then the image of Link's feral face arose to the surface of her mind and somehow she felt as though nothing could be the same. But what had been this 'same' anyways? She didn't want to be here anyways, right? She never had liked Link in the first place, nor his stupid little smiles and nice eyes and stories, right? Then why did she somehow feel betrayed? Mistaken? Ashamed…and maybe even, in the smallest amounts…afraid?

She was hardly aware of the cushion beneath her and the grunts of the other men as they loaded in Link besides her. The crack of the whip and the loud, overdone wails of Hope sounded as though from a distance. The carriage began to move and the sound of the rocks and bumps passing beneath it blended in perfectly with the horses hooves like a chorus meant to be. It was dark. Blessedly and wonderfully dark. Maybe, perhaps, she could fall asleep and forget all this painful confusion.

It was the cool air of the carriage rushing in that snapped her back to full awareness. Link had pulled open her cocoon and was now proceeding to coax her off the seat in order to unwrap it off of her fully. She could hear the tapping of his sheath against the coach floor as he moved. His fingers felt out her face in the near dark.

"Zelda, you…" but his voice trailed away, as though he had forgotten what he was about to say.

"Yes?" she heard herself saying, dimly registering surprise that she cared. But then she realized she didn't care. Not at all. In fact, she felt nothing. She knew this sensation, this strange numbness. In the back of her mind she knew that some great pain was sure to follow after this peaceful numbness wore away, but she couldn't bring herself to even care about that.

"I'm sorry you had to see all that." he said. "And I'm sorry for scaring you. I hope you know I did it to protect you. I would never hurt you."

Something nasty and bitter rose from her stomach like bile and came out as words.

"You didn't have to kill them."

"Zelda, you know I had to or else we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd be making a really pretty corpse instead."

"Fine," she said, "but you didn't have to do it like that."

"Like what?" And for the first time she heard the harsh slap of his sudden anger. "Was I to stop and excuse myself before stabbing the man who was about to push a dagger into your chest? Or was I suppose to wait politely until he was finished to do it?"

"You just did it!" And before she even said it she knew it made no sense and that this was a losing battle. Yet the numbness was still there. Some tiny part of her mind still registered that she was horrified. The memory of his kill floated to her mind once more and the bitterness grew.

At her cry, however, the carriage fell silent. Link's anger, almost tangible in the still air, slowly fizzled until all she could sense from him was the tension in his hands pressed into the seat besides her. With a quiet noise of frustration he pushed himself back onto the seat opposite of her. He said no more to her, and she sunk back into her state of unawareness in relief. Her mind would not be stilled, though. Unbidden, thoughts arose to her mind speaking cool logic. She really had no reason to be upset. Link had only done his job as her husband, let alone a sane human being, in protecting her from those men. In fact, any castle guard, let alone a loyal citizen of Hyrule, would have initiated or at least demanded the death of any who dared to threaten her life. Then why was this terrible numbness still here? Was it that expression he had had as he beat them off? That hard, wild face of a warrior that so harshly clashed with the kindness she had grown use to? Or did it even have nothing to do with Link at all and merely had to do with the fact she was too innocent and naïve to handle this brush with death in a controlled, sane manner?

Again, she was just being stupid. She should apologize, and yet somehow her mouth had forgotten how to form words. She didn't want to talk about it. This numbness, though as fragile as the first had been on her wedding night, was peaceful, harmless, and comforting.

But, as always, Link was the brave one who broke the silence.

"I don't know what to say to you, my Zelda." Where she had expected his voice to be edged with indignation she heard only a strange, broken kind of sorrow. Bizarrely, it frightened her. "I'm sorry that I can't please you as you wish and that I only disappoint you. I'm sorry that I…that I ever asked your father…that I ever…" but his voice crackled with emotion and finally broke. Alarmed, Zelda searched through the semi-darkness for the faint outline of his form. Without realizing, without even knowing why, she reached out to him, crossing the carriage to wrap her arms tightly about him and bury her face into his chest while kneeling between his legs. He flinched at her touch, but did not push her away.

"It's not you." she murmured. "You did well. It's just—" but when she felt something small, warm, and wet seep through her hair on the top of her head, she couldn't bring herself to mention how his wild face had frightened her. Besides, it probably was just her. It was her that was broken and pathetic, not him. Link was far stronger than she could ever hope to be.

His arms enclosed about her, holding her tightly to him. He buried his face into her hair and she could feel the wetness that had been there, but she couldn't call them tears. It just wouldn't fit into her mind that someone like Link would cry—and over something as pitiful as what she had said. There had to be more to it. His breathing beneath her trembled with the effort to compose himself.

"Link, what's—"

"I love you."

She froze. This wasn't new information, and yet it stilled her and caused her heart to miss a beat. She could feel her numbness melting away, but the pain wasn't as bad as she had feared.

"Din, I was so afraid—and that's saying something, heh. It's been a long time since someone with a stupid knife could scare me, but it wasn't just me I had to worry about. And then they didn't give me time to get my sword out and one of them got away from me and…" Now his arms were trembling with his breaths. She didn't know what to do. She had not once given a thought to how Link was doing, or if he was even all right. She had not even given a thought to the guards or to the other people in the house. In a rush of guilt she saw just how selfish she had been, so caught up in the fact she had seen a man killed. In a sudden moment of revelation she realized that the expression Link had held had not been one of animalistic bloodlust, as she had feared, but rather one of protective indignation.

When she felt his lips against the top of her head she finally pulled away, and Link allowed her to. She wasn't worth this.

"Link, you shouldn't tear yourself up so much." she said lowly. "I'm not worth it, princess or not—though I figure that doesn't matter much to you, huh?"

Through the darkness she could make out him shaking his head.

"You're not—"

"I was selfish." She broke in. "And I was pathetic to be so affected by it. It just goes to show that I'm still a prideful princess who only thinks of herself. Please don't…please calm down."

He sniffed, but took a deep, calming breath. There was a brief moment in which they heard only frantic clip-clopping of the horses. Zelda got a strange impression that he was smiling, though she couldn't see to make sure. What he said next, however, confirmed it.

"Does this mean you might be falling for me?"

Scowling, she smacked him lightly, not caring for which part she hit. He laughed, though still rather thickly.

"I'm just teasing! Teasing! Please don't be mad with me, Zelda."

And she found that she was smiling and oddly not angry in the least.

"So," she said, settling herself back onto her seat. "What do you think all that was about? The attack and all. I thought we had settled everything with the tribes of the desert."

"War is never so simple. The animosity goes much deeper and may take centuries to uproot. Just because we killed enough of them and their leader to make them back off doesn't mean they're going to feel all fuzzy about working along with us." He sniffed again. "There are plenty who would have the emotional motivation to do what they did tonight. What you should be asking is what they could be planning by killing the both of us, or even one of us. Sure it would royally screw up politics for a while and make one pissed off king, but that would only induce another war—and I'm sure no one wants that unless they're sure they can finish it off quickly."

"Maybe that's just it then."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe they just hate us and want to cause trouble. You know, classical revenge theorem."

"That seems too simple."

She sighed. "Yeah. But you can't cross it out either." Adjusting the sheets for comfort, she stretched herself across the seats. If she remembered correctly it would take them a few hours to get back to Hyrule Castle. It was going to be a long night, especially with all the racket the carriage and horses were making. She assumed that the carriage driver was driving the horses as fast as he could.

"Do you think they're following us?"

"If they are, they better not do anything funny." She heard his sword clank lightly against the seats as he pat it. A thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Is that her?"

"What?'

"Fi. The Master Sword."

"Oh, that's what you mean. Geese, don't be so random. Yeah, it's her. I'll let you see when we get home, if you like."

What little pain that the numbness had left behind melted away. She grinned. "Yeah. I would like that a lot." And she pulled the sheet over her. Despite all that had occurred that night, she finally felt at peace enough to sleep. She had nothing to fear with Link besides her, especially if he had Fi. Her mind drifted from fragmented thought to thought for a while. She was just getting use to the carriages rocking and drifting into a doze when Link spoke up once more.

"This guy you like so much...what's his name?"

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes, though the strange, icky cold guilt tickled at her chest at the mention of him.

"Jeremy."

"What's he like?"

"Why do you want to know?" she turned onto her side so she was facing away from him, even if he couldn't see her anyways in the dark. "It's not like it matters." Her stomach jerked painfully at this statement, for it was true. She would never see him again, and if she did she'd never be able to talk to him, really.

Link's tone was unassuming, however. "Because it's something important to you, and I want to learn more about you."

Zelda gave her trademark snort. "Right. You just want to know so you can hunt him down if you need to."

"That's not entirely true, but I won't deny that I am somewhat jealous of the fellow. He did get to you before I did, which is infuriating. But besides that, I truly am curious." He let out a light chuckle. "And I guess, yes, if I learned he mistreated you I will hunt him down."

She slapped a hand to her forehead. "Din, you're so protective."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I can take care of myself." she said firmly.

"Of course."

At his smart aleck comment she wished she had something on hand to throw at him. He waited with an expectant air, however, and eventually she gave in, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She realized, in that moment, that she had never spoken about Jeremy to anyone until this point, and the shock of that moved the words out of her mouth.

"He's sort of a part time squire, part time soldier right now. His goal is to become a knight one day and to spread his holdings farther." She gulped, her mouth suddenly feeling overly sticky. It felt so strange to be telling her _husband_ of all people about this. "He sort of hinted that when he became a knight he would talk to my father about marrying me, but he never actually said it. But he just wasn't…no, he was straightforward. Very, actually. Sometimes almost painfully so."

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly sharp.

"Well…I don't know how to explain it." The memory of her dream floated to the surface of her mind and she shook it off. She couldn't tell Link about that, could she? It would demonize him, and Jeremy wasn't that way. He was just open and honest with her.

To her relief, Link dropped it and allowed her to change the subject.

"He's, I guess you could say, the tall, dark, and handsome type. I often thought his pale face looked like the moon underneath all that black hair of his. And it kind of fits him, his looks, you know. He's so melodramatic. I guess that got on my nerves, sometimes, because he'd often confide in me that he thought the world was out to get him or that no one would ever want to be around him—or that the goddesses thought him useless—which is so stupid, really. He often made it feel like we were the only ones that existed and that I was the only one that could understand him—that we had some kind of world unto ourselves, which is also why…" _Why he said the things he said in my dream._ But how would she say that? And what exactly had happened there? He had been truthful. She perhaps had acted like a whore to so quickly jump into a marriage. But wait…why?

"Yeah?"

"This is silly, I really don't know how to describe it. We had a weird kind of relationship."

"How was it weird?" he sounded casual in his interest. This put her somewhat at ease.

"Well, it was like…" but the dream kept reoccurring to her, making it difficult to think. The thing was that it hadn't just happened in her dream. He had often had possessive panic attacks whenever she went to a ball without him because he had training or because she would put their secret meetings off. He had often praised her, exemplified her royalty, but then express how he was hurt by her inability to understand, how she was insensitive, how she was needy—how she was unfaithful. And then there had been that time, buried so deep in the back of her mind that she hardly gave it notice, that he had admitted to her of the 'other'…And it was because of that 'other' that she could not defend herself for marrying Link. It didn't matter that he had…possibly…been unfaithful, for she—but this didn't matter. This didn't happen. There was only the two of them, a world of two in which no one would understand her as well as him, and her him.

With many things whirling around in her head, she hadn't noticed the buzzing silence that had fallen in between them. The dark, creeping cold had overcome her and she found that she had wrapped her arms around herself subconsciously as though to ward it off.

"Like what?" he asked, and this time the casual tone was strained.

"It's nothing. You wouldn't understand."

There was a tense pause before Link said more, his anxiety beginning to show.

"Zelda, is there something to be uncomfortable talking about? Did anyone ever know about you two?"

"Well…Impa did, but Impa knows everything." She gave a weak attempt at a light laugh.

"Did he do something to you—"

"_No._" she said quickly.

She could sense him bristling, but the next moment she heard him sigh heavily.

"Well, you are right." he said, and she heard the sheet rustling against the velvet as he too turned. "It doesn't matter anymore. He isn't coming back."

But she had never mentioned to Link that she thought that over and over. _He isn't coming back._ And the bewildered icefall that was her heart strained beneath the confusion and pain, for she found that she didn't mind where she was at presently all of a sudden…


	12. The Color Master

Chapter 12: The Color Master

A breeze. A faint breeze was blowing through her room and it smelt of pine, many flowers, and some unnamable scent that she assigned to her castle home. Like a peaceful melody it lit upon her as she neared consciousness. Without opening her eyes she could feel the familiar soft sheets of her bed and the perfect warmth they gave. She was home. Had she ever had such a lovely awakening? But wait, how had she ended up here?

The moment she thought of it, memories of Link helping her mostly asleep from the carriage came to her mind. She vaguely remembered her father stumbling down from his bedroom while tying on a nightcoat to meet them, but more importantly she had remembered his wan, worried expression. He had heaved a great sigh of relief at the sight of them. Then he had proceeded to demand an audience of Link in the morning before allowing them to wearily head to bed. The moment her head had hit the pillow she was out once more. Zelda was by no means a night owl. Now that she was a wake she wondered to that expression of her father's. Why had he been so concerned about meeting Link in the morning? Couldn't he glen all he needed to know about the attack from the coachman?

A soft clicking came to her ears. She recognized breathing. Confused, she finally opened her eyes just to hold herself back from choking on her own tongue at the sight that greeted her.

Link laid beside her, his dark blond hair sprawled about the pillow. She would've thought that he would have the decency of giving her space by at least sleeping _on top_ of the covers and away from her, but no! He was snuggled under the same sheets and only inches away from touching her. With disapproval and a touch of fascination, she nudged him roughly awake. He groaned and brought his hands to his face to rub his eyes hard. As he did so, she took notice of his bare shoulder that peeped up by the movement and felt herself grow uncomfortably hot. _Oh Din, please let him not be…_

"Wha—wha? What time is it?"

"Time to wake up," she growled, "and out of my bed."

"Hmm?" He peered drowsily at her from between his fingers. "Ah."

"What do you mean 'ah'? What are you doing in my bed? You better have not done anything funny while I was asleep." She poked him again in attempts to relieve herself of her aggravation, as well as the growing tremors that had started again within her. Even underneath her sole finger pad she could feel that he wore no shirt. Against her will, the image of his finely chiseled chest came to mind and she quickly squashed it.

Instead of getting out and away, however, Link reached out and pulled her to him, ignoring her protesting squeal. Growling genially, he buried his face into the curve of her neck and hid himself amongst her golden hair.

"Mmm, wife." he ruffed lowly.

"What are you, a dog?" she moved to push him away, but now the whole brunt of her arms were pressed against his naked chest and the nearly too hot skin burned into her. Not only that, she could feel the strength and brunt of the muscles of his arms as they closed in around her. The tremors went wild and the heat moved through her in waves. She clenched her thighs together in trepidation. Oh Farore, she could smell him, and he smelt _good._

Though her stomach seemed to have swollen till it threatened to choke off her voice, she forced herself to speak.

"Link…what are you doing?"

"Cuddling my wife. What does it look like?" And as an added measure he nuzzled against her cheek with softer, happy growls issuing from deep within his chest. "You smell glorious."

"Thank you?" What was she saying! "Gah! Get off of me! I thought you said you weren't going to touch me unless I wanted you to?"

"But you woke me up. You need punishment."

She gave a cry of disgust. "That sounded so wrong! Please, get off of me before I…before I…" But a sudden tug on her ear sent whatever she was about to say to the recesses of her mind. His teeth—his tongue—he was nibbling on her ear!

Her mind reeled and explosions were set off within her. She pushed herself as hard as she could against him—launching her straight off the bed. The floor came up to meet her with a loud thump. Groaning, she rubbed her hurt thigh.

"Zelda?"

Link peeked out from the edge of the bed down at her, still tented in by a fluff of white blankets. She was furious to see a wide smirk peeking out from the bulk.

"See what happens when you wake me up? Terrible terrible."

"Damn it—stay out of my bed, you jackass!"

"Aw, but you looked so sweet and harmless while you were asleep. And I swear I didn't do anything. Besides," his grin grew, "you make the most interesting noises in your sleep."

A blush blossomed up her neck. "Sh-shut up! No I do not!"

"How would you know? You're asleep."

"Same to you!"

"I'm a light sleeper. Anyhoo," and then, to her horror, he sat up. The blanket slipped off of his shoulders to reveal all his shirtless glory. She proceeded to furiously berate herself for being so affected by something as simple as one man's torso. "Why don't you come back in? It's still too early to be up."

Zelda glanced out the window. The sun was bright and rising in the sky. It had to have risen at least a few hours ago. She glared at him skeptically from beneath her eyebrows, adjusting herself on the floor to get ready to stand.

"It is not. And like hell I'm going to go back to that bed with you in it." And thinking that statement sounded final enough, she stood, planning to quickly grab her housecoat and run for it before he could do anything else stupid. Unanticipated by her, the ankle which up until now had been silent gave a grumpy twang of early morning pain and buckled. With a gasp she toppled forward—right into Link's waiting arms.

Now there was no escaping the full brunt of his physic and scent. The goddesses had to be out for her that day. Before she could gather herself to pull away he had flung her back onto the bed with a triumphant laugh and pinned her beneath him. His hands pressed her own into the pillows. His knees and calves pressed in on her thighs, and his ankles arched across her shins to hold her legs. Through all this she was somehow able to register gratitude that he was at least wearing pants before she lost all sense of thought by his breath across her face. It had his scent in concentrated form.

"Hello, Princess! I knew you'd see it my way."

She fought to find her senses once more, gathering her strength to beat him off, when a sudden thought occurred to her. What use would it be to fight him off? Why was she fighting? He was, after all, the man she was going to be stuck with for the rest of her life. She eventually would have to decide whether to try and love him or live a life without love at all. And it wasn't like Link would be too terrible to accept. She knew for a certainty that, if nothing else, she could see him becoming her best friend. He would make a fine king as well, and his experiences, although so vastly different, would compliment her own. She had already learned much from him. And there was no use fighting now anyways…Jeremy could never come back.

The thought of him was a damper. The fire was set at bay. Her panic was eased. Her senses slowly returned as a familiar, twisting guilt writhed in her stomach. Her muscles gave in to Link's force and she relaxed into the bed, gazing up at him coolly.

His jovial, mischievous face instantly fell. Biting his lip, he eased off her to his knees.

"I was just playing," he said, "I wasn't going to do anything. I swear."

For a moment she allowed herself to lie there, staring up blindly at the bed canopy as she considered carefully what to say next.

"It's okay. You _are_ my husband." she said finally, turning her head to the side to smile wanly at him. "Besides, I might've not minded it." Her weak resolve faltered. Did that mean she really was a whore?

But he scowled with disbelief. "Something's wrong. What were you thinking of just now?"

"Nothing."

"It was Jeremy, wasn't it?"

She said nothing to this. What was there to say?

Link waited with a frown. She smiled at him in reassurance, and this time she hoped it was true. She sat up. When Link continued to frown at her she ignored him, pushing herself off the bed and towards her wardrobe.

As she ruffled through her gowns, Link said quite seriously, "Zelda, I don't like the sound of that guy. Ever since last night it puts me on edge whenever he's mentioned."

"Then that's your problem," she said instantly, "because I didn't bring him up."

And she hadn't. A quiet place within her came to her awareness as she picked out a powdery blue gown. Briefly, she examined it, and knew it to be a place where nothing changed and only 'was'. She knew somewhere in there waited Jeremy, unmoving and unaffecting, because that was just how this place was. Here she could watch in peace with any suffering only being and not affecting. It was here she tucked away Link as well for later thought.

She told Link to turn around and slipped off her nightgown. His silence didn't worry her, whether he was thinking of Jeremy or not. He had nothing to fear from the young soldier. Zelda's pride would make sure of that. And yet, despite all this, he thought to Jeremy. Why? The blue material slipping around reminded her of the sky and that moment in the tree when she had looked out over the land. Jeremy was like that scene now and that wonderful rush of elation, for she was a princess and with that came certain obligations.

Warm fingers wrapped around her own, surprising her from her thoughts. She had been reaching over her back to tie her dress and had not noticed how she couldn't reach. He took away the ribbons and threaded them through, gently tying up the back of her dress.

"Can I…can I tell you a story, Princess?"

"A story?" she examined the lines in the wood of the floor. "Sure. I like your stories." She hesitated. "Are you okay? You sound…"

He tied off her dress with one last final tug, then leaned his forehead into the back of her head. His hands gently gripped her shoulders.

"I'm just…worried."

"Worried?"

"About you."

"You have no reason to be."

"I'm not sure of that yet."

She sighed and stepped away from him, dropping his head abruptly. "Then let me assure you of it. I'm fine. I can take care of myself." She leaned her head over her shoulder to give him a glimpse of a grin. "So, what's this story?" Picking up her fine, ivory brush, she began to brush her hair and turned to him. He was still dressed in only his undershorts, but had already moved to pick up his undershirt on the floor.

"It's the story of the Color Master, or actually the Color Master's apprentice." He tucked his arms into the sleeves and slipped the shirt over his head. Zelda tried not to pay attention to the way his abs and partner muscles moved as he did so. "It starts with a foolish King who loved his Queen very much. It was not surprise that he did, though, for she was the most beautiful woman in all the land with her prize trait being her long, silky hair. No hair could match hers. Despite her beauty, the Queen was incredible vain and selfish. When she suddenly grew ill and found herself on her deathbed, she made the King swear that he would never marry again unless he could find a woman more beautiful than she. In his great angst the King swore it, and the Queen died. For months the King mourned his Queen but made little attempt to replace her." He stopped midway into buttoning on his pants, watching her. "Zelda, may I…" But he stopped, quite suddenly bashful. Zelda found this amusing.

"What?" she asked. "Just a minute ago you were bold and doing whatever you damn pleased without my permission. What changed that?"

"I was feeling bold then, I guess."

She rolled her eyes. "You're being so bipolar."

"Well, I guess it was the fact I woke up to the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and just when I felt myself wishing she would be mine," he blushed, but gave a coy smile through it. "I realized that she was mine. I'm sorry, but it sort of got me excited."

Worms seemed to have grown in her stomach as she stared at him.

"Um," she brought her brush down and traced the carvings in its handle self-consciously. "I'm flattered?"

He laughed at the sight of her being so timid and unsure. "Din, you're cute. If you'd like I can continue to be bold. I just didn't feel it was the moment now, due to I have been trying to help you feel better. But, if you liked it…" he wiggled his eyebrows, the effect ruined by the redness across his cheeks.

Her pride finally kicked in and she scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Just tell me what you want already."

"May I help you brush your hair?"

"Whatever." She tossed him the hairbrush and plopped herself down on the bed next to where he was standing. "Just hurry with the story already."

"Oh, yeah. Where was I?" He sat himself sideways behind her and took up a lock of her hair to begin brushing with such gentleness as Zelda would've never used herself. She wondered whether to tell him her head wasn't hyper-baby-sensitive before he found his place. "After some years had passed the King's counselors were beginning to worry for the welfare of their king and his stability in ruling the kingdom, so they pressed him to get married. Reluctantly, he sought out companions that would fit his late wife's description, but of course it became apparent that this was impossible. No woman could match the beauty of the Queen. But just as the King was about to sink into despair he noticed his daughter, who had grown into a fine, fair young woman. He had not noticed until that moment, but he realized that his daughter was growing to be as beautiful as her mother. With that, he approached the counsel and told them of his plans to marry his daughter. They were horrified, and once it reached his daughter, she was equally disgusted but dismayed, for how could she refuse the will of her father and king?"

"That's horrid!" Zelda exclaimed, unable to help herself.

"Naturally," he said. "and the princess, in attempts to defer the mad ambitions of her father, demanded that she have a cloak made of every fur of every animal. She hoped that her father would get caught up in the difficulty of this task and give up, but she underestimated him. The King sent out all his finest huntsmen upon all the world to bring a furry creature of every kind. To her dismay they all returned with a pelt of every animal imaginable, and from their fruit her cloak was made. Now the King had grown impatient and demanded the hand of his daughter. In one last desperate act she demanded a bridal gift of three gowns of which the likes had never been seen: a gown the color of the moon, a gown the color of the sun, and a gown the color of the sky. And the colors had to be exact. They had to be near replicas of the objects themselves.

"And this is where the Color Master came in."

As he had been running the brush along his fingers would occasionally drift through her hair. As the pads of his fingers touched upon her scalp she felt an odd sense of pleasure. She oddly felt like a cat being pet and wondered if she would be purring if she were one. Yes. Perhaps being married to Link wouldn't be so bad in the end. She took this thought and stored it into her quiet place for later examination.

"The Color Master was the name given to a very gifted individual who owned a most curious shop in the kingdom. This shop's specialty was color, along with a wide variety of various crafts. They'd often take the most peculiar requests from clients searching for the remarkable in color. For example, a duke came along once who wanted shoes the color of stone due to he was self conscious about his feet and wanted shoes that would blend them into whatever he was standing on. Because of this, he did not specify the kind of stone, for he could be standing upon any ground at the time. In these cases the Color Master directs her clients to do their best with matching the color before entering in herself to add the finishing touches that made it truly remarkable. The Color Master's eye for color was nothing short of magical, and the Duke was very pleased on testing out his shoes to find he did everything he asked and more. It looked as though he were standing upon his ankles.

"So, naturally, it was this shop that received the very special order of the King to make these remarkable three dresses. The request was to be the most difficult task the shop had ever made. But when the artisans went to plan their approach this difficult task, they found their Color Master had fallen deathly ill. Little did they know that this illness had been plaguing her for some time and only now was taking its toll. Then, taking the shop by surprise, she passed on the job and her line to the lowliest and most humble of them all: a shy, uncertain young woman, who quailed at the task at hand. Yet, for the sake of her loyalty to the Color Master, who she deeply admired, she vowed to do her best. Though in reality, she knew she could never match up to the Color Master's skill, for it was much more than color that she saw.

"Once the shop got started on mixing the base color for the dress of the Moon (which was to be first), the young apprentice visited the Color Master in her home where she lived with her disabled brother. There she begged the Color Master to choose another, for she was the least fit of the all, but the sickly woman insisted that she saw what was in her. 'And I'm dying,' she said, 'and I can see death. It's not dark, but rather a purple-blue.' Ignoring all her protests and insecurities, the Color Master pressed her to put anger into the dress the color of the moon. 'For haven't you heard? The King intends to marry his daughter and this is to be a bridal gift. It is wrong for a Father to force his daughter to marry. You must put in anger and give her the strength to leave.' And the apprentice left with only a few strands of the Color Master's silvery hair to help in dying the dress the appropriate reflective color. When the young apprentice time to do the final color mix that would turn the dress from beautiful, reminiscent color of the moon to a full blown mirror, she found that she could almost hear the colors singing to her as her hand brushed over the many bins of dye. The dress came out better than she had expected, but not nearly a match to the beautiful touch of the Color Master. But when they sent the dress away to the castle she realized that she had been so focused on simply making the dress acceptable that she had forgotten to try and put in the anger the Color Master had asked for. But even if she had remembered, she did not have an inkling of how she would have accomplished that.

"When the next dress came, the dress the color of the sun, she visited the Color Master once more. This time she was worse and sicker than ever. 'Death is glowing,' she said, 'shadowy, but glowing.' She gave her apprentice suggestions on how to pull off a dress the color of the sudden—a bright white that's almost hard to look at, and yet yellow—before pressing once more for that rage to be put into the dress. 'You do not bring something into the world just to bring it back into you. You are to set it free. You do not birth something just to bring it back to you in marriage. It is wrong.' And she spoke it free of moral obligation. It simply was, as she saw it, and that is what made her who she was. The young apprentice was once more captured in wonder at how much the Color Master beheld. It was so much more than color for shoes for self-conscious dukes or dresses. In that moment, the young woman was reminded of her own indignation of how unrealized and underappreciated the Color Master was.

"The next time she visited the Color Master, she was dead. They had just begun the plans for the last dress, the dress the color of the sky. She stood there alone in the little cottage, watching the Color Master as though she were just asleep, when indignation of her death overwhelmed her. It seemed suddenly incredibly unfair, for the Color Master had not been old. She had been beautiful and young and had merely been one of those people who grey early. And yet here she was, dead and still unrealized and underappreciated for the eyes she had—for the wisdom she held. She held that rage and despair as the funeral came and went, and when her time came to finish the final dyes of the dress she sent all the other artisans home. All night long, consumed by rage, she flung dyes into the dress as though angry with the sky itself…" Link fell momentarily quiet. He had long stopped brush her hair and merely weaved it through his fingers. He fiddled with a strand, and for a moment Zelda thought to turn and ask if it was the end of the story. Then he spoke: "Cause that's what you do when you're angry…when you're so taken by rage that the world is unfair, that life is unholy, and when the most beautiful and talented die unrealized…as though their birth was the most vain work ever done. You shake your fists at the sky—you yell at it—you rage that it can stare down so blue and uncaring. And it is blue." His fingers dropped from her hair. "The deepest blue."

A stillness had fallen over them. She carefully looked over her shoulder to see Link with his head bowed, his eyes unseeing as they had been on occasion, as though seeing into another time and place. She felt as though she were watching something private, something that she was invading upon. Wondering to where he had wondered too, and half afraid to find out, she opened her mouth to ask when a loud knock came at the door.

"Your Highness, Sir Knight, I hate to interrupt but the King has a very urgent request to see you in his study."

He seemed to snap back to earth. "Oh yeah, he had asked for that," then to the door, "I'll be right there!"

"Link, are you okay?" she asked as he slid off the bed and continued his hunt for clothes.

"I'm fine." He dug out a boot and shoved it on. "To finish the story quick, the dress was a success and the next day the princess ran away."

"Good for her." She hesitated, momentarily not caring for the story. "But you got that distant look on your face again. Are you really all right? What you remembering with all that…sky stuff?"

He finished buckling his belt around his tunic and dropped to the other side of the bed. "That will have to wait. Maybe some other time?"

She smiled. "Sure. Yeah. Next time." Then she sighed heavily as Link jammed on the atrocious, green creature of a hat. Without a moment's hesitation she jumped to her feet and wiped it from his grasp. The surprise that spread over her face nearly made her burst out laughing. "You are not going to wear this _thing_ for a meeting with my father."

"Why? I like that hat. And I wore it for the last meeting with you father and look what good it did! I got you!"

"It's ugly."

"Says you." He reached for his hat, which she held out of reach from him. He gave a short growl of irritation and latched out for it one more time before giving up with a scowl. "Fine! Have it your way!" And he stomped out of the room, his head a mess of pillow molested hair. She chuckled at this. That would surly get some raised eyebrows.

But once the door closed with a sharp snap she found her smile melting off and any amusement slipping away. _The deepest blue._ Atop that birch tree she had see that uncaring face. The brilliant, almost eye-tearing blue.

Without bothering to tie up her hair, she slipped on her slippers and left after him.

&# #$%$$ %$#% #$% #$^#^$%$#%$#%#$% $#% #$%!

She had not bothered to find out what her father had to tell Link that was so urgent. Usually she would have been interested in what caused her father to act so uncannily upset, but she found herself oddly not caring as she instead wandered to the royal gardens. After wondering through the barrage of flowers and bushes, she came out to the open fields of the grounds and that same, deep blue sky. A refreshing breeze blew the green grass into shimmering waves and played her loose hair about her face and neck. At last, she took a step into that quiet place within her.

It hurt. It still hurt. She no longer hated Link. In fact she found herself unhinged and raw now that she was finally away from him for the first time in seven days. It was as though he had been a soothing balm for a wound she had never noticed was being soothed. There was something she felt she had begun to understand with him. Now that he was gone, she was left helpless and hanging. Jeremy was so far from her now, and it hurt. She remembered hurt like this before, though, when he had left to help his dying grandfather in his home village. That was where he had spent time with that 'other', where he had…but she had deserved that. It was she who had protested at their secret meetings and his passionate touches. It had been she who had tried to betray him first. That world of two was an oddly empty one where people ceased to be connectable. They wouldn't understand. He had always told her that—that no one understood him, that he was hated, that he was shunned—and she had always thought him ridiculous. But looking now, she realized she herself had closed off as well. She herself had begun to believe that no one could fully understand her; could understand her feelings with Jeremy.

For not even she could understand. There was a burning, iron-like connection between them that she had never felt the scathing heat of until she had been forced to let go and accept another into her confidence. Link had been the cool water that made her realize she somehow had been burned, and yet how? And yet this connection between them had always been treated as so fragile, as show by Jeremy's jealous possessiveness of her, and yet somehow unbreakable with how she couldn't feel that she could trust anyone with this private, precious thing. It hurt, but no one would understand. It burned, and _she_ couldn't understand.

But now he was away. He had left because she had. She should have fought, perhaps. And now he would be with the other, begrudging her for not fighting with her father—or maybe, perhaps, not begrudging her at all, but simply away and forgotten.

The confusion and pain welled up until all she could feel was a sudden, overwhelming rage. She felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes as she stared up into that blue sky. She wanted to shake her fists at it. She wanted to scream at it for being so far from her reach and for mocking her so. She really had no choice. Damn the other stars that would not hold still. Damn Impa for being right about your only freedom being your choice. She was too wise to choose otherwise—to choose Jeremy. And there was no freedom in that. And yet why did she sometimes feel oddly free? Free from the threatening pressure of the possible 'other', free from the weight of feeling constantly separated, and free from the terribly lonely world of two? Such an unsettling, shattering freedom. It was as though bands had broken and she could suddenly breathe…

Unable to stand still for any longer, she walked, not caring where her feet took her. What was she _suppose_ to feel about all this? She somehow felt uncomfortable with the fact she felt so much peace around Link, as though that throbbing burn wound within her was not suppose to be soothed. She was unworthy of him; unworthy of the strange purity that had survived the filth of war and blood. How could he be so kind to her when she had been so proud and cruel? And he had loved her probably before the day they were married just to find an angry, whiney princess who pined after another. She was almost afraid for the moment when she would remember where she had met him and realize all the more just how wrong it was that she could have won over such a man. And if Link ever knew just what she had let Jeremy do with her at that…would he too take up an 'other'?

The grass at her feet had worn away to stone. She blinked. Great, wooden double doors stood before her, one partially cracked open to allow the musky scent of hay, horse, and manure to whiff past her.

Why had her feet taken her here?

She felt an urge born out of habit to go inside, but then an equally powerful urge told her to turn away as she had in the dream with Jeremy and the Gerudo. But she hadn't been lying to Impa when she had told her that the sound of the horses soothed her, and suddenly feeling in need of some relief from the gaping quiet within her, she stepped forward and slipped in through the door into the barn.

At first all she could see was the outlines of the stalls and troughs and smell that thick musk of animal and feed. She stepped forward, somehow dreading when the dim-dark would finally choose to go. Then a voice spoke and her heart froze.

"Zelda?"

Pain wrapped around her chest and she suddenly couldn't breathe. Why did she feel so afraid? It was only Jeremy.

Her eyes adjusted to the all too familiar dark figure leaning somewhere near the back against a horse stall. The black stallion he had been feeding reminded her too remarkably of her dream. Would she see the desert now if she turned?

"It is you! Zelda…" but it was as though he suddenly didn't know what to say and turned back to his horse. She knew she should run, but her legs were frozen. Wouldn't he be offended if she ran now? But why did that matter?

He eventually did find words to say and said, "I hope you're enjoying marriage. How has it been so far? Is Link Knight as great as they say?" She couldn't miss the bite of bitterness to his words and felt herself flinch inwardly.

"Yes." she said. "Even more so, actually."

"Sorry I couldn't meet your expectations, then." And then as though he couldn't contain himself. "Not as though I ever mattered—nor you ever cared. I know that's not how it is, but you are awfully fickle at times. Sweet…but fickle."

He spoke this so matter-of-factly she found it hard to disagree with it. Link had called her loyal once. It was something he loved about her. But was she? She tried…she tried so hard to be. Sometimes she tried so hard, but then one thoughtless action would have Jeremy on edge and causing her to doubt. She was thoughtless and foolish. Flirty and rash.

"I mean, look where you are now." He leaned back as though to peer behind her. "Where's your so called husband?"

"In a meeting with my father. I'm here by accident. I have a lot to think about and you know how the horses calm me."

"Ah," he nodded, "tell me about it then. Why are you troubled?"

But she knew she couldn't do that anymore. Even though it was just like it had been two weeks ago, it was all different now. She was married. And she couldn't talk to Jeremy about this. It, frankly, wasn't any of his business, and to tell him of it would be inappropriate. And yet, behind all that, she felt a strange foreboding. She knew what he would say if she told him, how he would argue, how he would press. She was nervous of that.

And why was she even still there?

"I'm sorry." She said after a moment's hesitation. "I can't."

There was a long, stuffy pause.

"Why not?" he asked, "If you think about it, things have only changed if we want them to be. Do you not trust me anymore?"

"It's just inappropriate."

"How so? You're just talking to me, your friend."

"I am not that naïve." she took a quick breath. "I'm married. You are not my husband. And…frankly, it's none of your business. I'm sorry."

She couldn't read his stone like face, but even from the distance she was at she could see the tension build around his dark, coal-like eyes. They were handsome, his eyes, but deep and confusing.

"Oh," he turned back to the stallion, "well excuse me. I didn't think you would fall in love with him so quickly."

She stiffened. "Jeremy—"

"Let me guess, was it the nice build you were so attracted to? The heroic profile? Or was it the sex?"

A tremble. The dream. "It's nothing like that, and you know it."

"Oh, is it?" and then he turned the full brunt gaze of those black eyes and all his pain. "Because I honestly don't know it. I know you. I know you very well. That's why I can call you by your name still without tagging on any royalty. Before me you are bare and normal. So do I know?"

"No, it's not—"

"But it's okay. The deeds already done. I would've done something, but, you know, out there I'm just a little more than a squire. I couldn't deny the king himself. I thought you'd do something—"

"What did you expect me to do!" she exclaimed. "I went to you and everything and you just stepped away and said you didn't stand a chance against Link Knight. I thought we could plan something together-" But did she want that still?

Jeremy raised his eyes and hands to the ceiling in exasperation. "You know what I was saying! You know I was merely showing that it was up to you to do something, as the princess. I couldn't do anything! And I couldn't simply elaborate more with your stupid nursemaid watching you like a hawk."

Zelda faltered. "What do you mean? I didn't see—"

"She was there, Zelda. More close than usual because it was the week before your wedding." He grimaced. "She doesn't like me. You know that. She hates me, actually."

She sighed, not bothering to argue against that even though she had denied him many times. Impa had never said a word of hate against him, and until she did, she had Zelda's benefit of a doubt. But it didn't matter anymore and she wanted to run. She had to run. She already felt like she had gone too far with allowing herself to talk to him for this long. Should Link or anyone else find her here—

"Good-bye, Jeremy."

She turned to leave.

"No—wait!"

She couldn't help it. Inborn habit and a sense of duty kept her in place. Even as she furiously berated herself for this, she heard his footsteps against the floorboards, muffled by stray strands of hay.

"I…I'm sorry, Zelda, that I didn't make myself clear, that I wasn't more brave. Just…hear me out for a minute. It's not too late."

"I don't know where you're getting your information," she said, getting snappy in her anxiety. "But it's way too late for anything you're thinking."

"So…you really do love him then? Or is it…" but he paused, "Well, even if you have allowed yourself to be bed by him, I'll still take you. You're my light, you know that. And I can't tell you how awful this week has been without you. I thought I might die. But you can still choose, the choice is still there."

"What choice?"

"You can leave with me. We can run away from all this and pretend the marriage didn't happen."

Dread was sinking in on her mixed with an icky sort of longing that was not at all attracting. A heavy weight fell into the pit of her stomach. He couldn't suggest that. What a wrong choice. Leave her kingdom to fend for whatever cousin should be greedy enough to take the throne? Leave her father alone and betrayed to rot away the rest of his days? Dishonor herself, her name, and all that she held dear?

Destroy the man of the stories who had given her, so freely, his entire devotion? The man of the sky, who had offered her so much freedom with complete trust? Link, who had been so giddy to find her next to him when he woke up that he held her tight against all her refusals and loved her…called her beautiful without any perverted lust…called her loyal. Loyal…

No.

"Even if it didn't destroy my father, my honor, and my kingdom," she said, quietly but very firmly, "I could never do that to Link. Even for you."

To her shock, Jeremy gave a raspy, mirthless laugh.

"Link? Really? I hate to break this to you, Zelda, but he doesn't know you at all. What will happen when he learns more about you? I'm not surprised that he'll fall in love with you, because you're beautiful and intelligent and that light about you, but honestly. Will he ever know you like I do? And what if he learns more of me? Of what you've done?"

She tried to hold the trembling back that was beginning to shake her painfully. "Shut up." She said.

"And you promised. You promised that we would stay together. We were made for each other. Don't you even care what you're doing to me? But of course not…"

"Will you—" but she choked on her words as his hand fell on her shoulder, flinging her back and up against a stall post with a gasp. A few horses snorted loudly in surprise.

He was against her, holding her arms high above her with that smoldering, dark gaze of his boring into her. A few black curls dangled in front of his sparking eyes.

"I could've chosen someone else." he said, quietly, intimately. "But I chose you, Zelda. Don't you remember that? And I will always keep you, even if you think you have moved on. I will be watching, and waiting. Why can't you do the same for me? Why can't you finally just be loyal to me? Do what I've done for you and be all mine?"

"Jeremy, no, I'm—" Why was she scared? Why was she so scared?

"Even though you're stupid, I know you still love me. So why won't you—"

And his mouth came crashing down upon her own.

Several things hit her at once. First was horror that it was happening while she was married. Secondly was shock at his audacity. Almost in succession to this was a familiar pleasant thrill of pleasure that tempted her to stay, to kiss back, to even do as Jeremy said and run away with him. That is what she had wanted originally, wasn't it? But last and finally was the image of the landscape before her up in the birch tree, though her mind didn't stop there. It continued to when she turned around to see Link, right below her, with his hand held out and his eyes, equally heart-jerking blue, crinkled with concern for her.

She turned her face away forcefully and moved to free her wrists from his grip, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. He, however, was not budging.

"Stop it!" she cried. "Let me go!"

"Do you really want me to?" he demanded angrily, with not a trace of softness.

"Yes! Let me go right now!" Now she was practically screaming. She partly couldn't believe herself. Screaming at Jeremy? He too seemed momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered.

"Well, too bad."

"_Move_, bastard, or you're dead."

A surge of both relief and dread filled her as she recognized Link's voice. She opened her eyes. He stood with a heavy saddle bag dropped to the floor besides him, and every muscle in his body, from his scalp to his toes, was tensed. His teeth were bared and his face furrowed with a wild, terrifying fury of the likes even she had never seen before.

Remarkably, despite this terrible visage before him, Jeremy didn't move. In fact, he reacted rather coolly, as though stating the weather outside.

"Oh, look. It's the Hero."

"Let go of my wife now or I_ swear I will kill you!_"

A new fear came over Zelda, because she knew Link would. Thankfully, Jeremy did decide to step away, withdrawing himself from her. Before he was completely away, though, he spoke. "Fine," then he pulled her hard from the wall and flung her at Link's feet in a mess of hay and dirt. "Have the whore."

It was as though an explosion occurred. With a loud shout of rage Link launched forward with the speed only fury could give and had his hands on Jeremy before the young man could even blink. The first punch that landed across Jeremy's face sent him flying to the other end of the room. With a rush of terror, Zelda covered her face. The sounds of pounding, hard flesh filled the barn like thunder, with Jeremy's strangled cries and gurgling gasps of pain almost smothered beneath the loud sound. Horses whinnied in fright. Hooves pattered and stomped on wood.

Then with a horrible thud and crack the beating thunder stopped. The horses calmed into fits of snorting and restless pacing. Zelda carefully opened her eyes and looked up from her place on the floor.

Link stood panting heavily next to a stall on the other side of the barn. His face was red, his eyes still blazing, and his fists were clenched tight. She stood on trembling legs. Jeremy was nowhere in sight.

"Link?"

She couldn't help but flinch when those hot eyes turned on her.

"I've assumed that's Jeremy. I am correct?"

"Yes."

"Where's a sickle?"

She blinked. "What?"

"A sickle. Preferably a rusted one."

"What the hell do you need a sickle for!" she clutched at her chest. She thought her heart might fail her. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"No." he said bluntly. "But he's going to wish he was when he wakes up. Now where's that bloody scythe I'm going to _fucking castrate him!"_ The last words came out in a barely restrained roar as he turned on the spot and went stomping into the corners. "That foul filth—that bastard—that—"

"Link!" she cried sharply, horrified. "You can't be serious!"

When he continued to mutter curses as he dug out the said sickle from its dark corner, spewing hey all about, she rushed to stop his approach to one of the stalls with it. She clung to his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"You can't do something like that! That's ridiculous!"

"Why are you stopping me?"

"You…you…" she took a shaking breath. She was going to break. Everything was trembling and shivering and shifting. "Please, stop. I'm…I am dirty. I am filthy. He's right. I am…" But that wouldn't even make sense to him. And what was she doing? What was she saying? Why wasn't she simply demanding he not kill her love? Besides, the murderous rage of Link had stunned her beyond means. Had it really been necessary? Why had he overreacted like that? She knew not how to take it. She couldn't.

But he had stopped and now stood waiting on her. The heat in his eyes cooled with a touch of concern as he watched the shifting emotions on her face. Then, with a grunt and a disgruntled snort, he tossed the curved blade back into the hay and took her arm. Her knees had been threatening to buckle beneath her and she took his support gratefully.

"Fine." But he gave once last venomous glare into one of the empty stalls. Zelda thought she could spot a thin, dark stain that had a tint of red running down the wall and vanish within the stall walls. "At least I know where you got that stupid whore idea from…bastard."

She thought he was going to lead her out of the barn and away from the scene of disaster. Instead, he sat her down on an upturned trough and picked his fallen saddle bags back up with a grunt. For the first time she noticed his sword hanging at his side, untouched. Inwardly she nearly wilted in relief that he had not used it on Jeremy. She wanted to return to the stall she presumed Jeremy to be to make sure he was, indeed, not dead, but she suddenly feared what her legs would do under her weight when they returned.

"Your father is sending me out."

She stared at him in bemusement, not entirely sure what he meant. He had gone to a stall nearby where a beautiful auburn horse with a pale mane waited. As he unhinged a saddle from the rack and stepped into the stall besides it, he explained, his voice still somewhat terse.

"The attack on us is part of a bigger, yet still unknown plan of a southern desert tribe that's near the border. While we were on our honeymoon news reached the palace of an entire village on the border being kept hostage by the neighboring tribe. The tribesman have sworn to kill every man, woman, and child unless I myself am sent there to negotiate." He slung the saddle across the horses back after placing down a blanket. The beautiful mare nickered as Link traced the straps of the saddle beneath her to the buckles. "They've already killed quite a few to show they mean business. I don't know what their purpose was in sending those assassins, but I'm starting to wonder if they were even assassins at all, but rather a stupid kind of herder."

She sat quite stunned at this. A quiet keening had begun wailing in her ears, but she had yet to pay heed to it or even decipher its meaning. She could only watch as Link finished saddling his horse and hooking on the saddle bags.

"Of course he's sending a good amount of men with me that I'm suppose to lead. Personally, I would've rather gone alone. It's harder to keep track of so many people. I don't like the idea of any of them dying for me." He slipped off a bridal from a hook and wriggled the reins experimentally on it.

She should say something. She had something to say. The keening was growing louder. A new pain had appeared in her chest, but it was a kind that she couldn't stuff away into that quiet place for future contemplation.

"So, since I'm leaving, and…well, I was never one for the unrealistic, so since I also may or may not return I have to make a request of you."

She almost didn't hear his request, so stunned by his mention that he may never come back.

"Please have nothing to do with Jeremy. Before, when I first heard about you loving another man, I was willing to give you up if that would make you happy. But after hearing from Impa about it and having this nice little chat with him myself—"

"Impa? When did you talk to Impa?"

"Last night, when we first got here. I was concerned with how you were acting about him. But let me finish. After learning more about him I have to press you to not have anything to do with him. If you never take my word as your husband seriously, that's fine, but please just this once. Even if I don't return." Where before his attention had been on putting on the bridal he now faced her with all seriousness, his eyes blazing once more. "Please. He's not good for you. He's destructive. He's harmful." His eyes narrowed. "And if I do return and find out he's gotten anywhere near you, I'm sorry, but I will kill him. I won't let all my efforts go to waste with one stupid, horny bastard."

"Efforts?"

"Efforts to keep you safe and happy. Why do you think I was in that war in the first place? To protect your people. To protect you. It's so infuriating to know while I had my back turned this creature somehow weaviled its way in."

She didn't understand what he was saying. What had Impa and him been saying behind her back? Did they even understand Jeremy and her? Did she? What had been going on?

And now Link was leaving? After all that effort she had put in to stay with him? After discovering how much he really meant to her?

"Link, don't go."

He froze in the act of bringing out his horse. He dropped the reigns.

"What?"

"Please," She should stop trembling. It hurt. "Don't go. Don't leave me. What if you die?"

"What if I die?" he said quite calmly.

"Don't say that."

"Why?"

"Because you're important, and…and…" Hot tears were pouring down her face. She wasn't sure when exactly they had started. "I don't know what to do without you. You're like that sky—that sky above the birch tree that I want so bad, but can't have. I use to think Jeremy was, but ever since you've come into my life, I've…I've…the hurt, no, the 'other', and then all those stories and how you…how you…I won't live." And she couldn't say anymore. Sobs overwhelmed her and she was choking on her own breaths. Everything that had happened and all the pain she thought she had kept tucked away in her quiet place came pouring out. She knew she made no sense, and that frustrated her, because all she wanted was to make clear to Link how he couldn't leave her like this. After he had brought back to her life all the spirit she had once lived before her mother died. He had awakened her. He had freed her. He had loved her. With him her guilt was blessedly null. She knew she wasn't worthy, but she didn't care. If he were to leave—if he were to die—

In two long strides he was to her and had her wrapped up in his arms. She sobbed with abandon into his chest.

"My Zelda," he murmured sadly, but that's all he said before he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and then on the lips.

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Author's Note:

For the full story of _The Color Master,_ see to the story of _The Color Master_ by Aimee Bender. A copy of it can be found in the book _'My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me'_, Edited by Kate Bernheimer. It is a collection of retold fairytales. Be wary, though, a good deal of the stories are rather gruesome and graphic.


	13. In Search of Fairies

**Author's note: I'm sorry that this chapter is so late. I've had a really choatic weekend. X.X Not to mention this one was hard to write. But I finally made it! I always make it my policy to try and update at least once a week. Please continue sending me reviews. :) I would like to know what it is I'm doing right-as well as what it is I need to do better at. That is why I'm here. I am here to find out what people like. So please, let me know. ^.^**

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Chapter 13: In Search of Fairies

The moonlight fell crisp and cool upon her clammy skin. No matter how hard she clenched the railing of her small balcony her arms would not stop shaking. Her night gown felt hot and itchy, stuck to her by sweat.

She had dreamt of her again. The Gerudo. It had been three days since Link had kissed her in the stables and left her at its doors. Every sleeping moment since then had been haunted, without fail, by that blazing vision of the dancing Gerudo. The thrumming of the desert drums were growing more and more persistent. That night she had awakened with a start by the uncontrollable urge to dance, the exotic call of the drums ringing in her ears. Now she stood panting, covered in sweat from having jumped out of her bed and blindly danced. The twang of her muscles as she moved wildly and clumsily had been like a drug satisfying a dying craving. Yet she felt no elation in the act. Just a bewildered longing. Now, however, she was disturbed.

"What in the world has gotten into me?" She murmured to the night. "Am I possessed or cursed?"

For even now the image of the red-haired woman blazed in her mind, her amber eyes somehow accusing. She had not said a word, but Zelda knew that her patience had worn out. She now demanded that Zelda realize what she wanted, and her continued inability to answer correctly had irritated the Gerudo into passionate, war-like dances. The increasing vividness of her dreams frightened the princess. She could no longer accept them as just dreams. Could these be visions? But then of what kind? And why?

And what exactly did the Gerudo want from her?

Tucking her hands under her arms at each side in attempts to still them, she whimpered. If only Link were here. He could've explained this. And if not that, he would have had a story ready to calm her fears.

But what if he…

She shook her head so hard she nearly lost her balance. Such thoughts had troubled her enough those days. Link would come back, she assured herself. Should she give into doubt, she knew for certainty she would not be getting back to sleep any time soon.

And then there was Jeremy…this in itself sent her heart into waves of twists. Had Link done right? She kept getting the horrible sensation that she had done something wrong. And with no Link here to refute her guilt, it took over in a whirlwind of uncertainty. And then the ever present question of 'but does it really matter?' But that brought to her pain. No matter if it was right or wrong, it was awkward now outside of the reality Jeremy and her had created around themselves. She was told that world she once belonged too was bad, and she could partially see why now. But it hadn't been all bad. And reminders kept reoccurring to her, even now in the silvery face of the moon.

How could Jeremy be bad? And what was going on within her?

The urge to dance threatened to overwhelm her again. In that rush of movement she could lose all feeling to the drums and simply worship the sensation of her own flesh. But that only increased her anxiety, for when had she been a dancer? When she was a child?

Taking a moment to finish catching her breath, she gazed up to the silver luminescence of the moon, wearing a skirt of scanty clouds. _Please,_ she prayed, _Goddesses, keep him safe. Watch over him. I still have yet to figure this out…_

And with that she made her wobbly way back to bed and tried with all her might to ignore the desert horns wailing in her memories.

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Impa finally began to grow worried that morning when she found Zelda pacing in circles in the library, fidgety and distracted. She pointed out the purple circles beneath her eyes before stating, "What is wrong?" Her tone was commanding, allowing no room for passing politeness.

"It's just theses dreams," she said.

Impa cocked an eyebrow. "It's not Link?"

"Even if I wanted to worry about him, I can't! It's this stupid Gerudo." Zelda tugged at her already messy hair before turning to the Sheikah tearfully. "It's like I'm possessed, Impa. I don't know what's going on. If Father were to find out he'd send all sorts of doctors and mages to look in on me, and then everyone would think I'm insane." Her eyes widened. "I'm not going insane…am I?"

Impa crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "Depends. What are these dreams?"

"Well, it's usually the same thing. This Gerudo, dancing in the desert, asking me what it is I want and making fun of me when I don't answer how she wants."

"How long have you been having these dreams?"

Zelda pulled on her fingers, unable to hold still. Why did she feel so tense? "After Link told me this story about the mother of the Gerudo—you know, the first Gerudo there ever was. But I only dreamed about her maybe once or twice. Ever since Link left, though…" she trailed off, feeling the sweat build in every crevice of her body. Her grip on her own fingers began sliding and slipping away. She really was possessed, then. But what if she was—what did this mean—what would Link think?

Impa reached out a single hand and wrapped them tightly about the twitching hands of the princess. Her red eyes gazed steadily into hers until Zelda could feel her thoughts calming. Her trembling eased a bit.

"The answer is easy, then," said Impa, her voice grave, "Figure it out what it is you truly want without concern for the opinions of others and this spirit or subconscious working of your mind will be absolved."

Zelda frowned. "But I don't care what others—"

"That is including Jeremy and Link Knight." The way Impa looked at her quieted her. She had been delusional to think she had kept anything from Impa about Jeremy. Impa knew far more than Zelda liked, and she pulled away from her x-ray like vision with the beginnings of shame once more. Being so uncomfortable put her on edge, as it always had.

"Impa," she found her voice quavering with an edge of indignation. "Wouldn't it have been fine to give me some privacy in my relationships? I'm not going to have to worry about you hiding somewhere in my bedroom when I'm married, am I?"

"I did give you privacy." she said simply.

The blond girls head snapped up, her expression hard. "I wonder what the hell your definition of privacy is then."

Zelda knew she shouldn't have spoken that way to Impa, especially with the dash of profanity she had jabbed in, but she didn't care. Why bother hiding her dirty habits from Impa if the woman knew about them anyways?

Impa merely looked at her with her blood-red eyes. Her fingers tickled against the edge of her forearm plate, but other than that she did nothing. Yet Zelda could detect no guilt in the great woman's eyes. This increased her frustration. Running her hands through her mess of hair she moved to leave the room, not even knowing where she was going off to.

Even if she wasn't a possession, the Gerudo would soon drive her mad.

It took her a while to realize where her feet were taking her. By the time she came to she stood before a worn, but well cared for, oak door. She knew the smooth grain well from the many times as a child her fingers came to it for comfort. It was her father's study. Perhaps, subconsciously, in need of comfort she had gone here, to her father. So much had happened, and now that she felt so vulnerable to life without the shadow of Jeremy, she was reawakened to the childish want to be with daddy. Her fingers lit upon the cool metal of the doorknob. She couldn't tell him about the Gerudo. No. But perhaps just being with him would help. Already her stress and tension was waning. Quietly, she opened the door.

He sat as she usually remembered him: in his favorite armchair, sporting a roll of parchment filled with accounts for the kingdom and a quill. He looked up as she entered with her hands folded behind her back. A bright smile shone through his beard like the sun between clouds.

"Ah! My little girl has come to visit her ol' dad at last! It's good to know I'm not forgotten—come sit! Come sit!"

The edges of her mouth twitched. "Father, I'm a grown woman now. Why do you insist on calling me your little girl?"

"You'll always be my little girl in my eyes, Zelda, no matter how old you may get." At her incredulous look he added, "Wait till you have children of your own. Then you'll understand. Now come!" he patted the arm of another, smaller armchair besides him. It had used to be her mothers. "Your seat's still here, same as always. I haven't seen much of you the past few days. What have you been up to?"

Zelda shrugged and made her way to the soft, chintz chair. "I've had a lot to sort through."

"Like what?" he asked cordially, moving down his paper and setting aside his quill.

"Well, you know, married stuff and all that." Hopefully that would ward him off from the subject.

It did.

"So, ahem," the old king shuffled his parchment before his face in attempts to look causal. "Link and you are getting along fair enough, I presume?"

"Yes." she said shortly. The king didn't press farther and turned back to reading his paper. This was how it had often been for them: him reading his records and occasionally breaking into short conversations with her. She had usually been content to sit and gaze into the fire. She was a girl of few talents, and even fewer hobbies. As a young child she had been content to sit and daydream about adventures and stories. After the death of her mother the daydreams had slowly slipped into periods of meditation where she would enter the quiet place of her thoughts and all she had observed that day. Therefore, it was a practiced and comfortable silence that came in-between her and the King.

She longed for the peace of the silence. Yet today was different.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Why…" she hesitated, "Why did you choose Link?"

"Choose?" he lowered his parchment once more and lifted a thumb and forefinger to his beard. "Well, I must say at first I did have my apprehensions. He came into my office with that fire to his eyes that all young men have when they're out for trouble. His clothes were clearly in want of retirement, but not like he could help that, I think, but still rather careless if you're trying to impress the father of the woman you wish to marry." He paused, and his whiskers rose with his faint smile. "But then we got talking and he told me the most…remarkable story. Quite remarkable."

Zelda wanted to slap her forehead. She should have known. "What story did he tell you? Did it have a genie in it?"

His eyebrows rose. "A genie?" They fell back down and he shook his head. "I don't recall any genies. No. It was about a farmer boy who fell in love with a little lost princess he found in the forest by his home."

A great shock, unlike Zelda had ever known, shot through her body, sending her jolt upright in her chair. Her father had the most peculiar, sly look on his face.

"Apparently, the little princess had wondered away from a royal picnic nearby in search of fairies and Kokiri. When he found her she was covered in scratches and dirt, her skirts nearly torn off, but not in the least bit frightened, strangely enough. In fact, she refused to admit that she was lost, even though it was obvious that she was." The king chuckled warmly once more, his dark blue eyes twinkling with the sunlight from the windows besides them. "Sound familiar?"

It did. It sounded horribly familiar, and she could feel the blood draining from her face. She had nearly forgotten it with the rest of her escape episodes, which had happened quite frequently. The little boy that rose to her mind had been one of many strangers she often met on these adventures. Though she couldn't quite remember his face, she could remember the apples on the trees behind him. They had been of the most beautiful bright red, and through the leaves of the forest she had mistaken them for fairies themselves. Once she found it was just apples, her next conclusion was equally spurned by her imagination: she thought the poor little farmers boy a Kokiri and dragged him away into the forest with her to hunt for fairies. He had said very little, she recalled. He had been a shy boy. Looking back, however, she wondered if it was because he was too stunned at being pulled away by a ragged princess than shy.

"Apparently," continued her father, growing amused by her pallor, "she kept them out all night and into the morning telling him about some kind of creature in the sky with stars for eyes and all sorts of silly things. Eventually they were found by the boy's Grandfather, who was in a fury about his grandson having gone missing without a word and then having guards appear on his front doorstep looking for a lost princess." He shook his head. "You were such trouble as a child, my daughter. But goodness, you couldn't be called uninteresting for sure!"

"That can't be all." She protested, wondering why she suddenly felt so alarmed. "He can't have…are you saying that…" but she lost whatever she was about to say. How could Link know so much about her after only one night? Even enough to fall in love as deeply as he professed? Especially a night almost eight years ago?

Her father seemed to read her mind, however, and said, "He was so intrigued by the princess that whenever he came to the palace to deliver his grandfather's crops, he'd often stumbled upon her dwelling in the kitchens with the cook. Now," the king brought up his roll of parchment to his face once more. "Must I continue to speak of you and him in third person?"

But she was remembering further. There _had_ been something familiar about the blond young man who delivered the apples. She had just thought him another servant. But now, looking back, she had never noticed him listening in on all her conversations (more like rants) to Hope now. In fact, she had not noticed him at all.

And now he was…this couldn't be right. That quiet boy was Link? When had he stopped delivering apples? When had he stopped being so shy? When had he decided to take up his sword?

But then, she realized, in an all mighty pang, that she recognized the soft smile he had always given her—and suddenly felt very, very stupid. She bowed her head to her hands. How much had he seen? For how long had he been watching when he delivered food to the kitchens? Zelda had never given thought to what the delivery men might think whenever they came in the middle of her visits with Hope. And how come she could remember so little of him, and yet he could remember so much of her? How had she never stopped to get to know the shy, handsome boy? But then it occurred to her that she hadn't taken notice of boys as 'cute' until she was thirteen, but even then—

A loud knock came at her father's study door. At a barked 'enter' from the king, a gangly boy dressed in the royal livery of a messenger entered, slightly breathless.

"The party sent to Lanayru Village is approaching the castle, Sire. The Watchmen from the Southern Tower send the message."

"What? Already? But it's only been three days!"

"That is all I know of it, Sire." And the boy bowed low. The front flaps of his purple vest nearly touched the floor. "That is the end of my message."

The King excused the boy, looking part troubled, part relieved—a strange combination to be seen on anyone's face for sure.

But Zelda's heart had leapt at the message. Link? He had returned? She jumped to her feet, her hands feeling for her head and dress. Was she presentable? She couldn't appear like this before him after he had returned from battle!

Her father's heavy hand stopped her from rushing out the door.

"What? Not even going to excuse yourself?"

"Oh," she curtsied. "May I be excused, Father?"

She didn't like his smile. He had noticed her flustered reaction to the news of Link's return.

"Before you leave, I just remembered I have something for you. You know me and my memory. Drove your mother crazy, I daresay."

She fidgeted impatiently despite her curiosity as he made his way to one of the bookshelves. He took down an old, uninteresting tomb and opened it. Inside the pages had been hallowed out to make a square box of velvet. From this he took out a ragged, leather bag. Returning the book façade to the shelf he walked back to her while shaking out the contents of the bag into his hand. What came out brought Zelda's hands to her mouth.

A necklace. A beautiful, delicate gold necklace done in exotic and beautiful swirls upon a fine gold chain. Within the soft embrace of the gold sat a large, round opal, glimmering in all shades of the rainbow.

"Your husband," he said, "gave this to me during our meeting. He said he had meant to give it to you on your wedding night to serve as your true wedding pendent, but the circumstances didn't serve him as he had planned. I'm not sure what purpose he had in giving it to me, but I feel no reason not to give it to you myself." The King shook his furry head wearily. "I don't understand why he didn't just give it to you on your wedding day."

Zelda took up the necklace by its gossamer golden chain, which felt surprisingly sturdy under her fingertips. She couldn't take her eyes away from the beautiful opal at its center. Asking her to lift her hair, the King carefully unhooked the simple, golden locket about her neck and took the opal necklace from her hands.

"I believe it would do well," he said softly, as he brought the necklace ends around her neck, "to please your husband, my daughter. This man has been good to you. I can see it in your eyes."

The patterns of the gold quickly warmed to the skin on her chest. She turned to her father and could see the reflection of the opal against his own marriage pendent: a perfectly round mirror of platinum, held to a chain by arms of silver. He dropped the old necklace into his pocket.

"Father, where on earth did he get this?"

But before he could answer, another knock came to the door. The same messenger boy burst in, eyes wide. Following right behind him was a worn and dirty soldier wearing the emblems of a captain, his helmet tucked beneath his arm. The brown-haired man bowed hastily, appearing flustered and road-ragged.

"Sir, I'm sorry for interrupting at a time like this. I felt like I should report to you first thing."

"First thing indeed." gruffed the King, taking in the captain's bedraggled appearance. "Well, on with it soldier. How was it? Any success?"

The man grimaced. "Yes. The village is safe. The…the tribe has left."

Zelda peeked over his shoulder in hopes of seeing Link. All she saw, however, was the messenger boy to the side, whose face had gone a deathly pale since the last time she had seen him. A dark sense of foreboding came over her and each muscle tensed in anticipated dread.

Her father sensed it as well, as was made apparent by the deep frown on his features. "What else, captain? Were there any casualties?"

The captain winced. Zelda hated how his eyes flickered to her before falling to the floor. What had he to have such a guilty look in his eyes?

"Um…your highness, it is about Prince Link Knight. He…he was the terms of their ransom on the village."

The atmosphere of the room became awfully cold. Zelda hugged herself, dreading the next words. Against her chest weighed the opal necklace. The King bristled.

"What do you mean he was the terms?" he barked. The captain flinched at the sound. "Where is he?"

"He's…we're not quite sure, your Highness. The tribesmen took him away into the desert—"

"_And you just let them?_"

All eyes turned to her in surprise and, on the soldier's part, dismay. She had surprised even herself with her outburst.

"M-m-my Princess!" cried the soldier, "Please understand, I am so very, very sorry, but it was the Prince's choice! He didn't want to start a battle in the village—"

"Then why didn't you follow him and do it outside of the village?" she snapped, "That is why you were sent with him in the first place, wasn't it? To protect him?"

"But, Princess, they went past Gerudo grounds! The Gerudo would've slaughtered—"

"That's my _husband_ you just left out there!"

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder and she clammed up at the expression on her father's face. His eyebrows were lowered over his troubled, but disapproving eyes, and a feeling of helplessness overtook her. Link was lost in the desert. Link was far from her reach, possibly dying now beneath a hot and heavy sun. Why had they wanted him? But of course, Ganondorf and many of the desert people must have died on his sword. What better way to wreak revenge then by kidnapping the hero to slaughter him as they pleased.

"Zelda, you are acting irrationally. You are not the only one who needs to be considered here."

She watched as her slipper blurred into the black and white tiles with her watering eyes. But what now? If no man was brave enough to go through the lands of the Gerudo, slayers of all things male, what would become of Link? Was this to be the end of that shy and quiet boy who had overcome so much? Was she really so powerless?

As the captain gave his condolences and apologies and worked out damage control with the King, her fingers wandered back up to the opal hanging about her neck. The round stone was smooth and cool. The story of the genie and the opal necklace…had he told her the story that night to prepare her for receiving this necklace? But then why? What had he wanted to tell her?

Strong and burning, the image of the Gerudo of her dreams forced her way into Zelda's mind. The amber eyes had never been so clear. The line of purple-pink lips had never been so firm. Slowly, deliberately, the desert woman raised her naked arm to the sun-bleached sky in the first curve of a dance.

_What is it that you desire?_

_To stop feeling so helpless,_ she thought. She had been so helpless in perventing her marriage and losing Jeremy. She had felt so helpless when her mother had died, and she felt even more so now. Perhaps that was why the sky had troubled her so. It mocked her with her small form, her powerlessness to reach for it and her pathetic inability to simply have what she wanted, whether it be adventures when she was younger or a forbidden love. But did it really matter what she wanted?

But then…was Jeremy what she had truly wanted? Was it even Link that she truly wanted? The feel of the birch bark against her feet, the taste of a freshly ripe apple, and the view of the mountains in the distance all between that blazing, blue sky came to her mind.

Then it clicked.

"Father, may I be excused?"

The captain flinched once more at the flat tone of her voice. Her father excused her as asked, but not without giving her a saddened, concerned look and a brief squeeze of her shoulder. She knew that he wanted to talk to her later, to comfort her.

But when Zelda reached the corridor she broke out into a run, her skirts clenched into her hands and the opal necklace bouncing against her collarbone. The moment the door of her room slammed behind her she called for Impa and moved to her dresser. Impa appeared around the balcony to a princess furiously throwing dresses onto the floor.

"Princess?"

"Impa, I need you to get me some less conspicuous clothes—and some food, possibly a horse. I need to leave here as quickly as possible."

Even though Zelda couldn't see it, she could imagine the stoic Sheikah blinking in confusion.

"You're going to the desert?"

"I figured you'd be listening in."

"As always I was merely keeping an eye on you."

"Whatever. I think a maid's dress will do. Now where in the world did I put that dagger?"

Zelda had moved on to tearing out the drawers of a writing table. The dagger she eventually found was an ornamental thing, hardly worth being soiled with blood. Sighing to herself, she turned to Impa, who hadn't moved an inch and was watching her with hard eyes. Zelda lifted the gilded blade before her.

"This is pathetic. Could you find me a real weapon? Maybe a sword or something?"

"Princess, do you really expect me to allow you to go to the desert? And if I heard right, to the Gerudo of all people?"

Zelda, however, had a fiery determination that burned within her. She had expected this. She wasn't stupid to think that Impa would allow her charge to go to such a dangerous, desolate land—the princess, of all people. But Zelda wasn't stupid. She knew she needed Impa.

And she also wasn't going to change her mind.

"Look," she started, throwing aside the dagger onto the bed, "let's cut to the point. I'm going to find Link, whether you want me to or not. You yourself said all that crap about the only true freedom being the freedom of choice. I know full well why you don't want me to go—I'm princess, I'm a girl, I don't know how to fight, blah blah blah—get over it. But it's because of these reasons I need your help. For one, I don't think I could get to the Gerudo without you, and two I need suggestions for disguises. Also," and at this she winced, "I didn't become the warrior princess like I wanted to when I was little, so frankly I need you for protection as well." She looked Impa hard in the eyes. "This is _my_ decision. Got it?"

Impa slowly blinked. Then, with a controlled step, she pushed off from her position leaning against the wall.

"If you die saving this boy, what will happen to your kingdom?"

Zelda cringed. It sounded horrible coming out of Impa's mouth. Almost humorous. And yet…

"Stop being so dramatic."

"You do know how foolish a task this is?"

"Yes." Zelda gritted her teeth. "Now are you going to help me or not?"

Impa just stared. Then, to Zelda's bewilderment, the deep frown lifted into Impa's straight lip smile.

"It's been a while since you've done something so rash. This man is good for you."

Zelda scowled. "Does that mean you'll stop peeking into my relationships? Honestly, no one believes that I can take care of myself."

"It just means you are cared for." Impa crouched down at the mess of dresses on the ground. She fingered the cloth. "Since you are so set on this, I will do all in my power to ensure your protection. My first suggestion will be to disguise your gender. It is more full proof than to merely hide your royalty, which is harder than you may think. My second," and at this she stood, "is to leave tonight, while your father believes you to be in your bed."


	14. Desert

**Author's note: Please ignore little typos and small errors. I'm hot in college now and trying to publish a book, so my time for revision is scrunched. ^.^ I hope you enjoy. Please leave reviews to what you think so I can continue getting better.**

Chapter 14: Desert

The sun's heat was heavier than she had imagined it in her Gerudian dreams. It seemed to press in on her like hot metal, and even its brilliant light pressed in on her eyes, demanding they close. Sweat trickled down behind her cowl and the blue, skin tight, Sheikah uniform she wore. The shading affect of her messy blond fringe helped somewhat to deflect the light enough so that she could see her way.

And yet she loved it.

She loved the harshness of it, so unlike her green, Hyrulian home. She loved the way the horses hooves pounded sand up in great bursts beneath her. She loved the almost suffocating heat, the broad expanse of desert, and the way the blue sky contrasted with the rusty rocks and cliffs she could see up ahead. She loved the liberation, the freedom, and the barrenness.

Impa and she had left as planned late the night before. The uniform she wore now had at first appalled her with how form fitting it was and she wondered how in the world this was to disguise her gender. But then Impa offered the cotton cowl to cover her face and hair as well as the Sheikah vest that would hang down to her navel. Zelda had been questioning about the eye and tear symbol on the front, but Impa had been silent—all though this was not peculiar for Impa in the least. The part she hated most was when Impa ratted her hair into a spiky mess and poured it over most of her face. Then, after clicking her fingers before Zelda's eyes to turn them red, Impa was satisfied and handed her weapons over: a short, narrow sword and a knife to hide in her boots. The tall woman had dragged her out of the room before Zelda could have the time to closely examine how her irises had somehow—magically—turned red.

Though they had been riding all night, reaching the desert so soon invigorated her. The heat, rather than exhausting her, only made her want to dance. Though she couldn't help but wonder how they had gotten there so quickly. The southern deserts were at least a three to five day ride away from the capitol. Perhaps they had just ridden hard? That was doubtful. It was most likely some unknown magic of Sheikah that Impa pulled off without telling her. She didn't know, and didn't see why it should bother her so much to care. They had gotten here, didn't they? That's what mattered. The sooner they got to Link the better.

The horses, on the other hand, didn't think the same way as her. Around midday both steeds ground to a halt, panting and foaming. Their legs shook. Impa dismounted as well as Zelda, who now felt resigned. It was bound to happen sooner or later. These were fine horses, but they weren't bred to handle such heat. They were only horses after all.

"We need to find these beasts water." said Impa. Zelda glanced around.

"There looks like there might be a settlement of sorts over there." She pointed to a black smudge a bit away, huddled beneath one of the rust colored cliffs. She thought of walking there and suddenly felt the heat of the sand beneath her shoes. She could see the heat rising off the land in waves, distorting even the smudge she had just pointed out.

"I was hoping that we could avoid such resorts," Impa frowned, "but we may have to, unless we plan on traveling to the Gerudo lands on foot."

No matter how much Zelda thought she loved the desert, it was not a pleasant thought to have to walk the whole way. Feeling thirsty, she reached for her canteen hanging from her saddle. What she found made her teeth clench. The canteen was empty, a small crack in its side.

"I think we have more than one reason to go." And she showed the broken canteen to Impa. The Sheikah scowled.

"Lousy stable boys." she growled, digging around for her own and handing it to Zelda. She gratefully took a drink. The water was graciously cold in the desert heat.

And so they began their trek towards, hopefully, water. Zelda allowed her mind to wander, but it just went back to her surroundings. She had dreamt of this place for over a week and now she was finally here. She couldn't think of Link, or else a hard tightness would come to her chest and she'd find herself unable to breathe. Nor could she think of Jeremy or her stomach would harden painfully till she had to double over and hug herself. No, she would think of the desert, for only there could she find blank expanse. She looked up to the sky. It was not nearly a tired of a blue as she had imagined, but still deep and bright as Link's eyes.

"Princess, what do you intend to do once we reach the Gerudo?"

Zelda blanched. "I…I hadn't thought that far, to be honest."

She could feel the disapproval coming off her nursemaid without having to look. She didn't have to guess what Impa had to say to that.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she said. "I just got so use to the Gerudo in my dream I didn't stop to realize that real Gerudo might just kill me on the spot. But won't me being a girl mean anything to them? Don't they only kill men on the spot?"

Impa simply looked at her stoically, the reigns of her horse held over her shoulder. Zelda's own horse trotted behind her wearily.

"The Gerudo are a proud tribe, much like the Sheikah. Anything that encroaches upon that pride can be seen as an offense. I presume you plan on confronting them to learn of Link's whereabouts, yes?"

Zelda nodded. "I guess so. Now I'm just starting to realize how clueless I am though."

Impa did not refute this, and Zelda took note of this.

"When we do meet with them," she said, "remember what I said about their pride. Perhaps we may be able to get by."

The mention of Gerudian pride reminded Zelda of what Link had said about her own pride and how her being like unto a Gerudo. She quickly caught herself smiling without knowing it and pressed her lips back to their lowered state, even though it would've been hidden behind her cowl.

The smudge turned out to be more than a settlement, but a village of houses that to blended in with the sand and cliffs of the desert. The only thing that stood out was the people, dressed in bright arrays of white, reds, blues, and greens. Many were strolling about stands built in front of others houses, while others sat still behind the stands, talking amiably to their neighbors. They fascinated her. She couldn't stop looking at their brown skin and black eyes, so much like Jeremy's. Even the thick, dark curls that poked through beneath their hoods and turbans fascinated her. A few woman wrapped completely in red ushered children around, with only their eyes and hands peeking through. She almost felt excited, instantly wondering if Link had any stories of these strange and exotic people.

As Impa and Zelda came into view with their horses, the noise of a bustling town quieted and many turned to stare.

Zelda adjusted her cowl uncomfortably. "Impa…why are they all staring like that?"

"Because we are outsiders."

Zelda glanced at the dark colorations of the desert people and thought that obvious. "But we don't look Hylian, do we? You said you changed my eye color to a Sheikah's."

"Sheikah or Hylian, they are the same."

Behind the layer of cloth, Zelda bit her lip. She could feel the blisters that were growing on her feet from the walk across the desert, but though they intrigued her, the way they were looking at them now told her they did not feel the same. She didn't like the look in their dark eyes and the tight mouths upon their cinnamon faces. Short, pale trees clustered by the tan buildings, nearly blending in with their wan colored leaves. Up ahead Zelda could make out a short, round construction of rocks with a simple pulley built above it. Supposing this to be the well, she quickened her step just to be held back by a hand from Impa.

"Still yourself," she said, "we must first ask for permission."

"Permission?" Zelda blinked. "For water?"

"This is a land where water can be more precious than gold."

Her heart fell. "Then why did we—" whatever she was going to say cut off sharply. Men of the village were approaching them, their faces grim beneath the layers of cloth surrounding their heads. Even as fear grew within her, Zelda wondered how they could wear so much cloth in this heat without suffocating.

Impa stopped them and the men surrounded them. Even the horses could sense the unease in the air and grew fidgety, picking their hooves up and down and flicking their tails. The town around them had stopped to watch. Their attention weighed heavier than even the heat upon Zelda. She bowed her head, trying to hide her face as much as possible behind her ratted hair.

A man stepped in front of the rest towards them. He said something sharply in an unknown language. When neither of them responded, he repeated himself, this time in broken, heavily accented Hylian.

"Why you here?"

Impa bowed herself, motioning to Zelda to do the same.

"We are but wandering Sheikah," she said slowly, "hoping for a bit of water to refresh ourselves and our horses. We mean no harm."

The other men in the circle burst into blabber at this and the man talking to us quickly translated to them. Zelda didn't like the deepening of their scowls.

"Water?" said the man skeptically, his face a mask of menace. "To Sheikah? You be foolish to think receive any here."

Impa was not cowed. "Please," she said, "for the sake of a peace we both want. All we would like is some water and we will be on our way."

"No," the man said, and he gestured them away with his hand, "you go now."

"But our horses will die!" exclaimed Zelda, before she could stop herself. The panic had begun getting to her head. At least she had had the forethought to lower her voice like a boy's before speaking.

Impa flashed her a sharp look as the desert man said, "No leave now, _you_ will die." Despite what he said, many men were drawing one-edged swords from their sides from sheathes Zelda had just noticed. They too had been hidden within the layers of linen. She watched as the muscles of Impa's arms tensed.

"Very well," she said, bowing once more before turning around, pulling the reigns of the horse with her. Zelda hesitated before following her lead. She had no sooner turned when pain exploded on the side of her head. She nearly bit her tongue holding back a yell as she staggered to the side and onto her knees, a hand to her head. Her horse gave a startled neigh, nearly pulling the reigns out of her hand as it pattered back.

Impa was at her side. "What happened?"

Zelda looked down to the ground, her vision spinning. A rough, tan colored rock sat innocently a ways away. She pulled back her hand with a small gasp to find it splattered with blood. Impa saw the rock as well and frowned her deepest, most threatening frown. But even Zelda knew that she couldn't take on a whole village.

"Can you stand?"

"I'm fine." she said, as lowly as she could, moving back to her feet.

As quickly as they could they moved to retreat out of the village, but more became inspired by the first rock that had been thrown and more sailed their way. A few missed, but others that managed to dodge Impa's armored forearm hit in various places—their arms, their backs, their legs, and the time they hit their horses the two of them had quite a job keeping them from bolting, snorting in fright. But she didn't dare speak, for a lump had formed in her throat. She knew if she dared speak she wouldn't be able to hold in the very feminine whine and her disguise as a man would be ruined.

By the time they finally made it out of reach of the village and their angry shouts and rocks, blood had dribbled into Zelda's free eye and she suspected several more gashes and bruises beneath her suit. She, unlike Impa, did not wear armor, but even Impa had her fair share of wounds that peppered the parts that were free of armor, such as her legs. Dismayed, Zelda fell to her knees, saying nothing. She didn't have to ask why the people had treated them so, but that didn't make the shock any less. Her body hurt more than she could ever remember it doing so. Her feet and legs ached, and in a strange way she also felt a bit betrayed that a place she had initially liked so much had turned so cruel to her.

Impa knelt down at her side.

"Princess, are you all right?"

All she could do in response was shake her head. And to think Link had to live with this now. That is, if he was still alive.

She didn't pay much attention as Impa led them to the shade of a nearby cliff and dug out bandages and the like. Using what little water she could spare, she wiped away the blood from Zelda face and head. Her mind buzzed blankly at the looks of hate she had seen on even the children's faces as they threw stones. What bothered her most, however, was not that the people could hate even those associated with Hyrule so, but that at one point she had hated them just as much. At one point she had been just as them, blindly willing to throw stones at the strangers just because they were associated with the land that had done them so much harm.

The sun was lowering in the sky. Though the horizon still sat a ways beneath it like a wide and welcoming bed, the sky held tints of the red and gold glaze of sunset. Her stomach grumbled and she felt weak and tired. Was this what it felt like to be famished? It hurt, she was so hungry! As though reading her mind, Impa took out a few carrots, bread, and some cheese wrapped in wax for her.

"Forgive me, my Princess," Impa murmured as she handed over the food and finished bandaging her head. "I promised that I would protect you. That was unwise of me to go to the village."

"You couldn't help it, Impa. We needed water."

Their horses stood wanly beside them, their heads hung almost to the ground, too tired and thirsty to even search for a hope of grass. Although her whole body hurt from stones and blisters, Zelda had room enough to ache for them. Would the poor animals even survive the trip back to Hyrule? Then a new thought occurred to her: would they? Her eyes moved up from the ground to the small wounds of the rocks that sprayed Impa's legs. At this she pulled her head away from Impa's grasp and hung it between her knees, dropping the little cloth of food besides her.

"Impa, no, I'm sorry. I let my rashness get ahead of me. You were right, this was a foolish idea. A very foolish, stupid idea. It must be my damn pride again."

Impa didn't say anything to this. Though her failure to not respond was not out of the ordinary, her silence oddly felt it. A shiver ran up the young woman's spine and she slowly straightened, ignoring the various aches along her back.

"What is it?"

Impa wasn't looking at her, however. Her red eyes were directed outwards and they shivered as they searched. The sun was lowering ever more and scarlet had begun bleeding upwards into the blue. Zelda, put on alert by the woman's odd behavior, begun searching around as well.

Even though she was half-expecting something to appear, she still jumped and shouted when five colorful blurs dropped from an overhanging above them. They straitened, all of them holding identical, triumphant smirks. Their hair was in various shades of orange and red, tied back in ponytails so tightly that their orange eyebrows seemed perpetually raised. They wore pantaloons and chest wraps of various purples, exposing much of their clear bronze skin. Zelda thought that her heart must have stopped.

Gerudo.

"Would even the Mother believe our luck," purred the middle Gerudo in a thick, warm accent. "If we were to tell her we fell upon the Princess of Hyrule herself."

Impa stepped in front of her, daggers filling every crevice of her fingers. Zelda couldn't remember when she had stood up.

"Stay away."

The Gerudo, however, hardly gave notice to Impa's warning. The most they did was shift their swords to a more ready position. Zelda wondered frantically how they could have known. She reached for her cowl, but it had only shifted enough to show her nose. Impa had not needed to remove much of it to bandage her head. She silently felt herself out for any other signs of her disguise being broken, but all she could feel were the various throbs of where the rocks had hit.

"Clever disguise," continued the same Gerudo, and Zelda could just make out her self-satisfied grin from around Impa. "But we're not stupid. We know that this Sheikah woman in particular never leaves your side. I hope you enjoyed the welcome of the desert by our dear Saurian tribe. Now, prepare yourself to be stripped of every piece of valuable that you've had since you were born." At that the other women raised their swords. Impa responded in turn, pulling back a fistful of daggers to throw. The next thing that happened took even Zelda off guard.

She began to laugh.

Everyone froze, staring at the strange reaction of the Princess's. She didn't stop, but continued laughing a dry, strange sound. It had just been too much. The stoning of the village, Impa getting hurt, her head getting light with hunger, the horses near death with exhaustion and dehydration, and Link probably dead somewhere out there in that wasteland. Zelda caught her breath and reached for her cowl.

"Strange," she said as she unwound it. "I was getting all worried about not being able to reach you women, and here you are coming to me."

The Gerudo only let a flicker of astonishment pass through them as Zelda's mane of golden hair came forth in a messy, sweaty braid. She smiled coyly at them and stepped besides Impa, whose scarlet eyes blazed with warning, but she ignored her.

"Now, feel free to rob me of whatever you want. But you'll find only some sweaty clothes, two nearly dead horses, and some bloody bandages. That is unless you're hungry, but the food I have isn't enough to be more than a snack for all of you. Or were you thinking of using me for ransom?"

The Gerudo exchanged glances. Two of them were frowning, eyeing Zelda with their almond-shaped amber eyes. Even Zelda could see that at least a few of them were thrown off by Zelda's apparent lack of care for the danger she was in. A voice in the back of Zelda's mind wondered the same, but she was suddenly too hungry to care. Too tired, too stressed, and too emotionally and physically strained to care.

Though a few of the Gerudo twitched to move forward, the middle one raised her hand to stop them, looking curious.

"Before we move on with it, why were you looking for us? Do you not respect our reputation at all?" the red-haired woman folded her arms, dangling her sword lazily from her elbow. Impa gestured to move Zelda back, but she avoided the move.

"Thanks for asking." Zelda smiled coolly. "I believe I came here to seek an investment for both our parties. See, if you really wanted to you could take me for ransom here and now, but I'm afraid you wouldn't get the payment you desired. My father is a temperamental fellow and will not appreciate you taking his daughter, so you can say hello to a war returning from the grave and not a single rupee. However, if you assist me in a very simple task, gold and rupees will conveniently fall into your hands and the desert peace will be no worse for wear."

Zelda wondered why she got so obnoxious when she was hungry. She had never had a chance to notice. Being a princess, the stress of hunger, fatigue, and pain had never been an issue and so had never been tested. Yet the new sensation of recklessness enthralled her.

The Gerudo lifted a forefinger and thumb to her chin in thought. Impa just frowned.

"What task are we speaking of?" she asked.

"I've misplaced a rather useful man. You probably know of him. The name's Link Knight."

There were quick glances exchanged, and whatever leftover of a triumphant smirk melted away. They eyed Zelda wearily now, lowering their swords. The middle Gerudo, the official spokesperson for now, grimaced.

"You must be joking. You came all the way out here looking for _him_?"

"Unfortunately." Zelda shrugged. "But also 'cause I felt like it. I'm finding the desert rather nice, except for angry villagers and no water, that is. You have seen him pass by, that is?"

She hesitated and slowly nodded.

Zelda brought her hands together. "Wonderful. So, have I reached your interest yet?"

She glanced to her sister Gerudo, who nodded and shrugged in turn.

"Very well. We'll help you, _Princess._" she said, her smirk returning. "Do I have your word you will fulfill our demands?"

"Sure. Do I need to bleed or something to prove it?"

The desert woman seemed rather taken aback that Zelda hadn't even bothered to ask how much money the Gerudo would be expecting. She quickly gathered herself back, however, her purring tone returning.

"Oh, don't worry. Should you not keep your word you'll just be finding yourself never returning home. We Gerudo have no loyalty to any nation and will take dishonesty far worse than another war. Are we clear?"

She nodded, beginning to feel the effects of overworking herself as well as a new hope that made her want to float. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be in vain after all.

One by one the Gerudo sheathed their scimitars. One of the other women waved to the cloth of food that Zelda had forgotten. "Better eat up. If you faint, softie, I'm not carrying you."

Finally, Impa lowered her daggers and gave one of her signature sighs. Even the horses, who had perked up in alarm at the sudden appearance of the women, seemed to imitate her weary sigh.

"Oh, Princess," she muttered, and yet her lips rose into a straight line.


	15. What Was Truly Given

Chapter 15: What Was Truly Given

She heard the drums before she knew herself. But as the drums' sounds washed over her she made out her arms, her legs, and the rest of her body. As the keening wail of the horns joined them, she became aware of her spirit. And as the zils begun tinkling above them all she discovered movement.

And the Gerudo of her vision was there.

With the sun blazing as ever before, she drew Zelda forth upon the desert, an unusual, friendly smile upon her face. Gone was the mockery, for Zelda knew she had made amazing progression somehow. She could feel the sand beneath her feet, pleasantly hot and gritty. Though she had seen other Gerudo by now, the Gerudo of her visions still seemed different. No Gerudo's hair could shine such a brilliant red, nor could their eyes be such a striking gold. For the first time, she realized this woman somehow felt old, though her face was as beautiful and youthful as ever. She wondered dimly who this person was before her thoughts were swallowed up by the beat of the music. The vision raised her arm. Zelda raised hers as well, reaching towards the white sun.

_Come now,_ she heard, whispering on the wind, _you are so close. What is it that you want? Have you realized it yet?_

And her arms swooped down. The Gerudo moved her hips in swooning loops and Zelda found herself following, as though they had suddenly become one. Her foot slid across the sand, her back curved back, and her hands plucked from the air.

The Gerudo filled her vision, her blood red hair sweeping about her bronze skin. Her mouth raised in a smile that lit her entire face, speaking some elated emotion that Zelda could not even begin to comprehend in full.

And they were dancing. The music filled her head, driving all thoughts out from her mind. Dancing, dancing, the sun so hot and beautiful in the sky. What is this? What is this feeling? To dance and be lost and—

"Princess?"

Suddenly her eyes opened without her knowledge of them ever being closed. She blinked blearily in the darkness, wondering who had turned off the sun. The only light now was a sliver of the moon in the sky and the stars. Disoriented, she glanced around, wondering dimly why her arm was in the air. Before her stood three Gerudo, their expressions dumbfounded. She dropped her arm.

"Uh…what are you doing?" asked one. Her hair was more orange than the others and her nose was long on her round face. She was also the shortest of the three.

Zelda blinked again.

"I…was I doing anything?" she looked around, terribly confused. Then she remembered. "I was dreaming again. What am I doing out here?" she glanced down at herself. She wore black, skin tight undergarments for nightwear. The undergarments were made so that they could fit underneath her Sheikah suit. Despite being surrounded by women, she blushed at being found in them.

"You mean you were dreaming just now?" asked a second. She was taller than the first.

"Yes, I swear, I…" feeling her face heat up more, she bowed in apology, not sure what else to do. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on. I'll just go to bed now. But, before I go…what exactly was I doing?"

Almost in unison they blinked as she had and cocked their heads to the side.

"You were dancing the Shemesh Rikud," said the third.

"The…the what?" then she gaped. "Wait, I was dancing?"

"Yes. The Shemesh Rikud."

A fourth Gerudo had dropped down from besides Zelda's tent. She sauntered up to her and the others, her amber eyes glowing like cat eyes in the starlight. Zelda recognized her as the Gerudo who had spoken for the others by the tone in her voice. She couldn't be sure if there were any leader among them or not, for all of the Gerudo walked with an almost feline-like confidence and self-satisfaction that could be misinterpreted for authority. Also, so far she hadn't had the chance to ask for any of the Gerudo's names, nor had any of them offered them to her, but she was half afraid to ask anyways in case she mistook one for the other. The Gerudo looked an awfully lot alike, despite the small details she had been taking note of.

The pseudo-leader didn't stop by Zelda, but continued to step about her, eyeing her.

"In your tongue it means Sun Dance, Princess. But that's besides the question. How do you, a foreigner, know of such a dance?"

"I..I…" Zelda didn't know what to say. She was flustered and still somewhat befuddled by waking up outside her tent on her feet. It was hard to shake the echoes of the drums from her head. But she could feel the trembling in her muscles. She had…she really had just walked out of her tent and danced in her sleep! It was getting worse! But did she dare tell the Gerudo? What if she really was possessed and they abandoned her in the desert out of fear?

The choice was made for her.

"She said she was dreaming." said the short Gerudo.

"Dreaming?" she paused in her circling, looking at her sharply and frowning. "Do you mean to tell me you know all this from a dream?"

Zelda bit her lip and glanced around at the other Gerudo. They didn't appear as though they would allow her to escape them, being the subject of their curiosity. They had even begun to slowly approach her, drawing nearer to her as though to close in on some prey. Her hands moved to clench invisible skirts in sharp apprehension.

"Yes," she said carefully. "I've been having this strange dream for the past week or so. But I swear this is the first time I've ever heard of a Shema-whatever."

"Describe this…dream."

"Well, there's this Gerudo woman in it dancing in the desert under the sun. She's always asking me what it is I want and I can hear this…this music in it."

All four pairs of eyebrows rose, if it was possible to raise them any higher with their hair pulled back so tightly. As they exchanged glances and swapped quick words in their desert tongue, she wondered to herself where the fifth Gerudo had gone. They pressed her for details and she did the best she could, despite her bewilderment. She somehow couldn't do the dream justice. She was no poet. Link would've been more up to the task.

By the time they had finished their questions they had switched from shock, to disbelief, to finally intrigue. They had gotten so close that one could reach up their hands and touch her, which the shortest one did all a sudden, fingering a bit of her long, golden hair. She spoke rapidly to her fellow sister in those strange words again, who nodded fervently. Zelda was too nervous to slap her hand away.

"What are you saying to each other?" she asked, trying not to sound too peeved.

"We just think it is very curious," said the pseudo-leader, "that you have had a seemingly leydah'mah experience—a sort of coming of age vision among we Gerudo. In these dreams as you call them, one is visited by the Mother and given prompts that will lead us into womanhood. Each visit is different for the dreamer." She frowned deeply, her fore-finger and thumb curving once more around her chin. "We think it extremely…abnormal and disbelieving that an outsider would be visited by the Mother."

The Mother. "You mean that woman who keeps nagging me is the genie?"

This threw her for a loop. "Genie?"

"I mean, the mother of all the Gerudo. Isn't there a story about her being a genie and having to travel around with this adventurer in search for an opal necklace?" At the thought her hand moved up to her neck. Lucky for her, the black undergarments had a strange, tall, stiff color, and she checked it to make sure the opal necklace was hidden.

Her movement didn't go unnoticed. Without asking for permission the Gerudo pulled down her collar and peered in. Before Zelda could shove her hand out of the way and snap, the damage had been done, and the princess was inwardly raging about the audacity and lack of personal space that the desert women had.

But the eyes that looked up at her weren't greedy, as she had feared. Rather, they were amused.

"So the boy did it." She shook her head, chuckling. The others pressed her for what she had seen, and once they had received their answer the only thing stopping them from peering down Zelda's shirt as well was Zelda's rebuking gaze and hands clenched tightly around her throat.

Zelda didn't ask. She could guess who the 'boy' was that the Gerudo referred to. She wanted to skitter back into her tent and away from the scrutinizing and curious gazes of the women, but curiosity held her there, just as it had held her in place to hear Link's stories.

"Why would I be getting dreams from the Mother of all Gerudo?" she asked.

She shrugged. "I am not so proud as to think I know all the mysteries of this life, Princess. But if you seek to not be haunted by these visions, I suggest you come with us tomorrow to resolve it." A small smile played on her face that was something half way between a grimace and a genuine grin. "Our leader, a wise woman, will be able to tell us what action to take."

"What do you mean by 'resolve it?' And what are you intending to get out of me for your kindness?" said Zelda, not stopping the suspicion from lacing her voice.

The shortest Gerudo laugh startled her. It was a brassy, trilling sound.

"So suspicious!" She cried. "Sister, maybe we shouldn't be so surprised, especially with her actions of earlier."

"Surprised by what?" Zelda asked.

"I'm sure you can piece it together, Princess," purred the Gerudo next to the short one, "You have received something that we Gerudo experience to be initiated into the clan as women, no longer little girls. It is our Mother who calls us in. What do you suppose we Gerudo are to do if the Mother calls in another woman?"

"Mother calls in those akin of her spirit," said the third, nodding.

Zelda's fists were beginning to sweat. A sense of alarm was growing in her mind, though she still had yet to figure out entirely why. Were the Gerudo really saying what she thought they were saying? No. That was impossible.

"Thus, if you wish to be rid of these visions," said the lead Gerudo again, prowling back to her fellow women, "I suggest you come with us tomorrow to meet our Queen."

Zelda retorted without a second thought.

"No."

All four pairs of amber eyes met her. Her hands were still clenched.

"No?"

"No, I will not go tomorrow," she said firmly. "I came here to get Link first. He may be dead by now for all I know. I cannot go on side trips when my original purpose remains unfulfilled. Besides, you gave me your word that you would help me find him because you were the last to see him. Or does your word mean nothing in a band of thieves?"

This made more than one scowl, but that was more than enough to unnerve Zelda back to awareness.

"But after we find him, I will go with you," she said. "I will go wherever you like. But Link first."

The pseudo-leader Gerudo eyed the area where the opal necklace hid.

"You care for this man?"

Asked in any other situation, the answer would've been refused, embarrassing, but not in any ways serious. In this case, however, before a band of women who denounced men and especially the love of men thereof, Zelda found herself unsure of the reaction she would receive. She knew it would do her no good to lie. Somehow, she knew that the Gerudo would be able to see through that and be offended. Their pride would not allow themselves to be lied to without retribution. So, gathering her courage, and forcing herself not to look down at her feet, she gave all she knew of the truth.

"Yes. He is my husband."

None of them smiled at this except for the one before her, the supposed leader, the one with the taunting, purr of a voice.

"Of course. None other would receive the Mother's Opal."

"Do you mean because it was intended for that man? The one who she trusted because of his loyalty and devotion?" Zelda felt that she needed to clarify in such depth because she had yet to learn if the Gerudo recognized the same story. Link could've gotten it from the desert people who thought they knew the Gerudo, but not truly.

But to this, the Gerudo stared.

"Loyalty and devotion?" And to Zelda's surprise she gave a glorious snort of amusement. "What story are you referring to?"

She could feel her face heating once more. "It's the story Link told me about this opal and the Mother and why there is one man born among the Gerudo to be their king. In it, the Mother was a genie." She bowed her head sheepishly. "Did I get the wrong story?"

"I can expect so," she said, "seeing as you got it from that boy of a bard—excuse me, your _husband_." She snorted.

Ignoring that comment and just glad she wasn't being slaughtered on the spot for having a husband, Zelda asked, "Then do you care to explain it to me? I…do rather like stories."

"Might as well, with your circumstances." She shook her head. "All this is very strange. Shall we sit?"

The Gerudo behind her had already slid down to a smooth, cross-legged position on the sand. Zelda, shivering slightly in the desert night, followed suit, trying to get as much warmth from the sand beneath her. The sultry Gerudo found her spot in the middle of the strange, half circle.

"Now, listen well, Princess," she purred, her exotic accent richer than ever, "for this is heritage. The Mother, as you probably know from your boy, lived her mortal life thrown into destitution and prostitution. Her poverty was simply what she had been born into. Yet she tried to live her life as she thought she should, with dignity and propriety, even though her nights in the brothel denied any such thing in her being. It was because of this struggle, of her desire for dignity, that the sly words of the nobleman wooed her so. In any other case, she would've been wary, knowing men very well and their selfish, sly ways."

"Vile creatures," spat the short Gerudo.

"Wait," Zelda blinked furiously, "he was a nobleman?"

The Gerudo nodded, her eyes glinting slyly at Zelda. "Oh yes. Brothels are often used by the noble and rich. It is the darkness of a man's society. But the nobleman eased his way within her, whispering to her of love, of comforts, of ridding himself of his barren wife for the exotic beauty that was the Mother. For a moment, she thought this man could give her the dignity and nobility she sought so much, for his kind words and attentions treated her as so. But when the night came when he took her away to claim her as his, she tested this, seeking the pride to deny him—to be considered worthy of such. But of course, he refused her, claiming she was the whore and he the Lord, and forced himself upon her then and there. Afterwards, he left her behind, back to his sickly Lady that he had never had any intention of leaving." There was a dramatic pause in which the other Gerudo's eyes glinted knowingly in the starlight. "She died in giving birth to the man's child. Her only child. The only man she opened her womb to. And she died with a bitter, hateful heart still seeking for that dignity she sought—that freedom of her life, the freedom of her sex, and the freedom to grow into the woman she could truly be."

A child? Zelda had never been told of this. Who had this child been? Had it lived? And if it had, did that mean that the prostitute that had become the Mother of the most notorious band of thieves had descendents that lived on?

Pushing that thought aside for later thought, she turned her attention back to the story.

"In death she could not find peace. She beat aside any calming hand of the Goddesses and demanded she find relief—that she be given the means to wreak her revenge to the man who had ended her. The Goddesses, unable to tame her wild spirit and pitying her rage gave what they believe would teach her the most: the ability to know the desires of others, and the ability to grant them as she pleased. It was an ability she had most used as a prostitute, and now would most use as a Daemon. Or, as your boy so foolishly called, a Genie. The Goddesses, to restrain her power if in only the slightest, confined her spirit to an opal necklace, not a bottle as your people foolishly place your wish casters. The opal necklace was to illicit desire in the beholder, who upon touching would summon her Daemon form, which was beautiful and seductive to behold as she had been in her mortal life. Then, their end would be ensured."

Zelda self-consciously brought a finger to her necklace, a chill running up her spin. Was the genie still in there?

"Unfortunately, such a delicate thing cannot stay whole for centuries. Legends had spread about the Daemon, or genie, of the desert who would grant a man's every wish, with a price. Careless of the warning of price, many sought her out and met their ends in her wish granting, for she would only destroy the man with his own envious, covetous desire till he died or wished for death, for men usually wish for what is worse for them."

"Pitiful," muttered another Gerudo.

"In their many hands a piece of her necklaces chain broke off and was passed down through the men till it finally fell into the hands of a simple boy, a goat herder, who heard legends of the opal necklace from his grandfather. Unfortunately, by then, many, many hundreds of years had passed and the legend had corrupted itself into a new tale, making the opal necklace some beautiful trinket that surpassed all treasures and would ensure the joy of your loved one by granting their deepest desire. How it came to be that way, we can only say stupid Hyrulian assumptions made it so. But the young goat herder had befriended a beautiful princess who lived in the castle and sought for her hand in marriage. Knowing there was no chance she would ever notice such as he, he went off in search of the opal necklace, foolishly unknowing of its true nature."

Zelda had to inwardly roll her eyes. Subtracting the goat herder for an apple farmer, this story was horribly familiar. She rubbed her goose bumped arms furiously.

"The boy was simple, but determined, using the piece of necklace that he had inherited to lead him into the harsh desert. There, he finally found the other half the necklace, still gold and beautiful despite the years. There, he fixed the necklace, and was greeted by no other than the beautiful visage of the Daemon Mother. 'What do you wish?' she asked, but the boy, confused, simply stated, 'I want you to fulfill my love's wishes.' This bemused the Mother, and she searched for other desires. But other than marriage with the princess, she found that he was not lying. Seeking his destruction nonetheless, she tempted him and danced about him and his dreams on his way back to the castle, calling for him that he may be disloyal to his princess and desire her instead. Eventually, however, the boy began to see more than she had predicted and he turned on her.

"'What is it you want?' he asked. In the ruining of others, she had almost forgotten herself. Her powers, which she had wanted so badly from the Goddesses, had begun to in turn corrupt her. She thought long on this as he arrived to the castle and found that his love was taken by another. She thought more on this as she saw children in the crowd. What had happened to her little child? Had she ever given thought to her child? She thought of the dignity and freedom she had sought from the nobleman that had betrayed her, but hadn't death given that to her? Tempting the boy one last time gave her no pleasure, for she had begun to realize in him that it was herself that had denied all that she had wanted. She had sought her own freedom and love in others and had forgotten that she could find that in herself. When she had been living why hadn't she run from the brothel? She had been beautiful, she could've gone somewhere with that. She had been a beautiful dancer and singer, she could've had become a performer. And her daughter! Her little daughter! If she had just taken better care of herself when she had been with child rather than burying herself in the sickening rage and bitter regret? Now it was too late, it had been hundreds of years, and she knew not of her little baby. The nobleman she had hated so had died of syphilis, she knew, and yet she had still burned with hate against all men, every man.

"So thus, she gave her answer to the broken hearted boy, who had been too reluctant to rid himself of the opal necklace, which had eventually provided his only companion.

"'I want to find my daughter,' she said, 'I want to be free of this and free to find my children.' And the young boy, now grown to a man and not so simple any more, thanked her for her years of friendship and her companionship, never once bitter towards her cruel temptations, and wished her free of the opal necklace. From there she used what little of her Daemon powers that were left to hunt down the fate of her daughter. And it is from there that she has found us, the Gerudo, and led us to the desert to dance free. It is why we have dreams when we reach the final border from womanhood. It is the Mother, seeking peace within her children, her descendents. It is her magic that keeps our hair like flames and our eyes like gold, and it is her magic that continues on the line of her daughters, bringing unto her many daughters of the desert." The Gerudo smiled. "It is not the love and devotion of the man, whom we now call Darhma, that so impressed our mother. It was that he set her _free_. He gave her back her daughters. He healed her bitterness. And he rid her of the bounds of the opal necklace which you now wear around your neck. If there's anything that men rarely do, it is set women free to do as they choose."

Zelda sat still in the thin, wane moonlight, her mind taking her back to the dancing Gerudo of her dreams. She had been so earnest, so beautiful, calling her to dance with her beneath that hot sun. Zelda now noticed that the abandoned dancing of the Gerudo had been a call to freedom, to dance and do as she pleased, and it had been that same freedom Zelda had been so envious of. _What was it that you really desire?_ She had asked, demanded, implored. The story now mixed with this in her head, about the true goodness of Darhman towards the genie had been to simply set her free to hunt down her daughters and to let go of her rage. It had been freedom she had wanted. Freedom from being a prostitute, from poverty, from feeling helpless against her circumstances…from feeling helpless to control what men did with her…helpless…

Zelda snapped back to earth when she felt the eyes of the Gerudo upon her. She felt that she understood them so much more. It did not change her envy of them, but something was growing within her now—a steady, realization and truth of herself. Standing, she dusted sand off of her legs and bottom, unsure of what to say to the women. When a bronze hand appeared before her vision, she just stared at it before meeting the amber eyes of the could-be-leader.

"My name is Abal," she said, "And I'm tired of calling you Princess, but I've never cared to learn your name up until now."

"Zelda," she breathed, taking her strangely cool hand and smiling.

One by one, the other Gerudo approached her, their hands outstretched in turn. They had a strange way of shaking hands, sliding their middle fingers to the palm of her hand while easing their other fingers to intertwine with her own.

"Badra," said the shortest one with the lighter orange hair.

"Fa'izah. But you can call me Fa," said the second with an overwhelming smile.

"Hasna," said the third and tallest. "And the one up on that cliff keeping watch is Izzah, but we call her Izz. Don't let her dripping sarcasm throw you off, she really is just a softie. It's humiliating on raids."

A happy, almost giddy warmth bubbled up within Zelda, and she couldn't help but smile so widely her eyes squinted. Badra chuckled at this, pointing out that she looked like an old woman smiling like that. Abal gestured her towards her tent.

"You, bed. Don't be mistaken that this means we'll carry your lazy ass if you should faint tomorrow."

And she did just so, happily retracting into her tent and snuggling back beneath her thin, but warm blankets. She mulled over the night as she listened to the horses nickered, and any regrets she had had for coming to the desert had dissipated. And tomorrow, dressed as a Sheikah, she would find Link and be able to tell him all that she had learned about the Gerudo.

And in turn, perhaps, maybe tell him even more.


	16. Village of the Forgotten

**Author's note: please let me know if this chapter moves too fast or feels awkward. I wasn't completely satisfied when I finished messing with it and I feel rather self-conscious about it. I tried to do it quickly because I was afraid that this sort of intermission would be boring, but it is necessary to explain important exposition and such. I have the next chapter, **_**Hrathbern**_**, burning in my brain, so I'm going to get it done as fast as possible. It's gonna be the climax. ^.^ And I'm sorry to say we are nearing the end of the story. I hope my sister likes it. **

**p.s. For you guests who ask me question in your reviews, I'd love to answer your questions, but since you are guests to this site and not members I have no way to contact you. So don't feel like I'm leaving you hanging. **

**p.s.s. I'm sorry for this long author's note. I hate author's notes. Always getting in the way of reading the story. So excuse me. Let's back to where we were, shall we?**

Chapter 16: Village of the Forgotten

Zelda barely had time to stuff some dry bread and even dryer venison into her mouth before her Gerudo companions ushered her onto her horse, which looked only slightly better after a night of rest. Impa had to collapse their tents in record time in order to catch up with the Gerudo before they ran off the map on horses they had appeared to pull out of nowhere.

"The men you speak of whom took your boy passed through when we were changing guards. Because of this, we barely had time to recognize a few of them before they were out of our bow-range. But we are certain they would have had to stop by Nishkakh before heading to whatever their destination." said Abal to Zelda, their horses moving along in a fast trot.

"Nish-kah-huh?"

"It means, 'forgotten'." said Hasna.

"But why would they have to stop by there? Especially if it's a place called 'forgotten'?" asked Zelda. Behind her, Impa frowned and had not stopped eyeing the Gerudo since they had awakened that morning. The desert felt cool and kind in its pinkish-blue morning.

"Here in the desert, Zel, you'll find that no village lives farther than a day's travel from the next. This is both important to the survival of the village as well as travelers, for in each village there is at least one well. Also, if anything should happen to the water or food, it is a good idea to not be too far from the nearest available help." Hasna happily explained. "And the nearest village within our territory besides our own is Nishkakh. They would've had to stop there to get water for themselves and their horses."

Badra nodded, her light orange ponytail bouncing. "Yeah. Though, frankly, we are surprised they even knew it was there. There's a reason that village is called 'forgotten'."

"Why's that?"

Izz, with a glorious, dark swirling tattoo around her left eye, snorted. She had not said a word all that morning along with Fa, and the sound threw Zelda of guard.

"Because those there are forgotten." she said darkly.

Badra laughed a tinkling, shrill sound. "Oh Izz, you're always so dramatic! It's a village comprised of women and their children. It's sort of a refugee camp."

"That explains why you allow them in your borders." said Zelda, with a faint smile. "No men, huh?"

"No." said Abal. "We protect them from men. Another reason for why they are in our borders."

Fa nodded solemnly. "Men have hurt them." She said softly.

Izz rolled her eyes, her gaze sharp and hateful beneath her tattoo. "Hurt is such a weak term, Fa."

"Abused, used, raped, beaten, neglected, cheated on, pick a word, any word." said Abal.

Zelda fell quiet at this, frowning behind her loose cowl. Why was there a whole village of damaged woman and children but not a village of abused men? Why was it the women who needed to run when their protectors turned foul?

She allowed herself to listen to the chatter of the Gerudo as the sun rose and they galloped lightly across the desert. The heat grew heavy and pressed in around her once more like hot metal. Her horse snorted spittle and its legs grew more sluggish in the deep sands. The Gerudo women talked about remarkably expected things: jewelry they had stolen and taken a liking too, what they planned to do with their rupees (either roll around in them like a sick dog or buy something obviously luxuriant), and horses, among other things. What Zelda found peculiar was that they rarely spoke of men. Whenever men were brought up, either in an exciting theft story or in passing, they only hissed together and moved on almost as soon as the man in question was mentioned. It made Zelda wonder more than once how they could've known Link and yet not have killed him. When the village Nishkakh began to show in the distance and the sun stood hot as ever at the zenith of the sky, she asked why that was.

"He was a good archer." said Hasna smiling her wide, bright smile. Zelda wondered how she could smile so widely when it was so hot. "He beat even my best score on horseback. Isn't that right, Badra?"

Badra nodded vigorously. Fa just shrugged to Zelda.

"The Mother gave the sign that we should not touch him." said Abal, but she smirked. "But yes, the boy is a very well-mannered toy. He knows how to play."

At the alarmed expression on Zelda's face, all five broke into laughter, even the quiet Fa and sarcastic Izz.

"Swordplay!" said Badra between tears. "Swordplay! Honestly, Zel, you should see the look on your face."

"Like any of us would degrade ourselves so to bed a man." said Izz, but Badra and Hasna looked at her knowingly. She caught this and gave them such a menacing glare that even Zelda quelled back into her saddle. Meanwhile, Zelda had begun to think that it wasn't sarcasm so much as simply a plain, grouchy mood that defined Izz.

After her heart had returned to a relatively normal pace, Zelda asked about the sign of the Mother. To this, they exchanged glances.

"It is difficult to explain, Princess, but we sensed her." said Abal. "The spirit of the sword and arrow lives within us because of the Mother. When we felt these spirits falter before his flesh, we knew that we were being restrained. We do not know them, but the Mother has her reasons."

As the sun began its descent to the horizon, they arrived at Nishkakh, with Zelda feeling dryer, hotter, and thirstier than she ever had in her life. The forgotten village was little more than a large oasis. Cottages of tan stone and dried palm leaves clustered beneath a patch of tall trees. Though still somewhat sun bleached, they were broad leafed and gave ample shade. Beneath their outspread branches played a dozen or so children, who splashed in a crystal blue pond or plucked tiny flowers from scrubby bushes. Each wore the thick, black hair and dark skin of the desert folk except for three, whose blond hair stood out like gold against their dark companions. Zelda eyed these, along with the scattered little boys, among the crowd.

"Why do some of them have blond hair?" she asked.

Izz shot her a look, but it was Abal that answered.

"Do you not know the ways of war?"

Zelda bowed her head sheepishly. "I guess I am rather naïve."

"Rather." said Izz in a low, sarcastic growl. "They are bastards, you idiot. Children that come from rape. Hyrulian rape. Do I need to say it any simpler?"

Zelda retreated back in her saddle. Impa rode up between them and gave the signature glare to Izz, who wasn't cowed.

"What happens to the boys when they grow older?" asked Zelda, avoiding Izz's gaze. She hoped it to be an innocent enough question with an innocent enough answer.

"They get sent out to begin their lives." said Abal simply.

A few children had begun to notice the visitors approaching. They let out squeals and ran towards the cottages, calling for their mothers who soon appeared at the doorways. Great smiles graced the dark, naked faces. That was another thing Zelda noticed. No veils and no all encompassing saris or robes. Rather, the women that came to greet them wore simple, linen dresses of bright colors. And they too, like the Gerudo, held an exotic beauty with their large, dark eyes and smooth chocolate skin.

An older woman cried out a greeting in the strange, desert tongue and moved her way through the small collection of people to them. Her hair ran down her back in a river of deep silver. Zelda felt the woman's scrutinizing gaze upon her, but she tried to ignore this. She felt Impa close in from behind her. It annoyed her. What kind of danger could there be here? It was them these women were wary of, and after what Izz had told her, for good reason. The old woman asked something of the Gerudo, who responded in turn, dismounting their horses. Zelda slipped off hers as well. She couldn't help but notice how a few women recoiled back as she hit the ground. Trying hard not to grimace to herself at their fear, she pulled back the cowl and smiled gently at them, revealing her womanly face. They visibly relaxed.

There was a brief dialogue in between the women of the village and the Gerudo which brought out a call from the slivery-haired elder. At her shout, two stout boys just hitting their teen years trotted into view, bowing, and taking the reins of their horses two at a time. A few mothers shooed the children away from the pool to make room for the beasts and back into the house for, what Zelda guessed by the smell on the air, supper. Izz, the closest to her, frowned. Her intricate eye tattoo stretching slightly with her cheek.

"What's wrong?" Zelda asked.

Izz glanced sideways at her. For a moment Zelda was afraid she'd snap at her again.

"Sounds like the men might have come into our territory to shake off your boy's companions, because they've gone in an almost opposite direction to where we were expecting." Her frown deepened to a scowl. "Men, so altruistic, aren't they?"

_Ah, so there was the sarcasm. _"Why? What happened?"

Izz hesitated, and Zelda's sense of foreboding increased. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Impa stepped a bit closer to her, handing over the reins of her horse quietly to the young boy.

"You see…"

At that moment, Abal wrapped up the conversations with the Nishkakh women and turned to them, her expression grim, arms tightly folded across her chest. The women behind her bustled off like an array of colorful, tropical birds.

"Well, it seems we now have a pretty good idea where your boy has been swept off to."

Zelda didn't like the tone in her voice. Nor did she like the grim expressions on the other Gerudo faces-even the cheerful Badra and Hasna. Zelda clenched her hands together, waiting.

"When the women spotted the men on the horizon they retreated into their homes, as is procedure to do so. Because of this the men thought the village deserted and they were able to eavesdrop on their plans as they refreshed themselves at the pool." Abel, sighing and dropping her arms, shook her head and raised her elegant, maroon eyebrows to Zelda in pity. "I'm sorry, Zel. They've taken him to Hrathbern."

Her blood ran cold as ice. Her heart stopped beating.

"If you've heard anything of the place after the Dark King's collapse," said Abel, "you'll know there's a good chance it's already too late for him. The magic in that place is old and has grown hungry in the year it has been empty. I…I suggest you forget about going any farther—"

"_No._" Trembling had taken over Zelda once more. It hurt. It shook her from the inside out.

Abal raised her hands to her in pleading. "Girl, you have no idea what that place is like. You're not a part of this desert, you haven't had to live with its shadow—"

"I don't give a damn." she said. "Point me in the direction; I'll go alone if I have to."

Impa placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Excuse me, Princess, but I refuse that."

"Fine!" she brushed off Impa's hand impatiently. Her heart returned with a fury to make up for the time of its absence, beating a wild tap against her breasts. Hrathbern bleached her mind. The dark, cold face of Link as he told her of it rose to her mind's eye. He couldn't be back there—back to where his horrors had place. If she didn't go now, all that she came for would be in vain.

All the Gerudo closed in on her, pity in their golden eyes. The sun had begun to set on the horizon, making their hair shine as though on fire and their bronze skin gleam like metal. They were beautiful. Zelda nearly lost her train of thought, so striking were their images. In them she could see the Mother of her visions, dancing like a flame itself upon the golden visage of the desert. Badra lifted her hand and once more touched the golden strands of Zelda's hair, a wan smile twitching the corners of her purple-pink lips.

"I once had golden hair like yours, you know."

Taken a back, Zelda starred at her, confused by the sudden change in subject. Badra, however, continued, and none of the others bothered to stop her.

"Not all of us are born with red hair." she said. "It's part of the magic of the Mother that when we accept her, we take on her mark. It's how we distinguish ourselves as separate from the rest. I remember watching my pretty, golden hair turn one strand at a time, and it's only now that I see yours that I realize how much I miss it. It's probably why my hair is still lighter than others." Her slender fingers dropped from Zelda's ragged hair to gently pull away her cowl. Again, the Gerudo showed their lack of care for personal space.

"If you choose so," she said as she tugged the rest away to once more reveal Zelda's feminine features, "you're hair and skin will also turn dark like ours, and your eyes yellow. You can become like us." Her smile grew till it was full-born, kind and with a hint of softness that reminded Zelda of Link's own smile. "So, if you are set on going, even if it's to save a stupid boy, we'll go with you. You are, after all, our sister."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Izz. "How do you know she isn't lying about having receiving the leydah'mah!?"

Zelda wondered for not the first time if Izz disliked her.

"You didn't see her." said Hasna.

"Then how did you know she didn't just make it up?" She bared her teeth. "You're making a fool of yourself, Badra."

"She didn't lie."

Fa's quiet voice drew their attention. Fa caught Izz's gaze and held it firm until Izz finally turned her head away with a huff of frustration.

"Fine." she huffed.

Abal watched this all warily. Badra remained by Zelda's side, standing almost a head shorter than the princess. Her words had touched her. Yet she buzzed with what they had just said. She had guessed her connection to them from the moment they had caught her dancing their sun dance, but having heard it from their own mouths gave her a strange thrill. She remembered how jealous she had been of their freedom, once upon a time. Had that really only been a few days ago? At the same time she wondered why the others had believed Fa so quickly and without question. Was Fa, the quietest of the group, the true leader?

"When do you want to leave?" asked Badra.

"As soon as possible." Zelda hesitated. "If that isn't too much to ask of you. Thank you. Thank you so much for wanting to help me. I'm sorry that I'm being so…so difficult."

"No, it's alright." said Hasna. "You love him. It only makes sense you'd be so."

Zelda blushed heartily, wanting to deny it, but knowing full well that if the Gerudo thought her lying it would only make it worse. So she didn't argue this, praying that the scarlet light of the sunset would hide her flushed face.

"And you're not going to get mad at me for that?"

"Huh?"

"For…having feelings for a man, that is."

Badra chuckled. "Oh Nayru, just because we know that men are scum doesn't mean they think the same of us." she smirked that trade-mark, cat-like grin of the Gerudo. "And _that_ we don't take advantage of that."

"We are our Mother's daughters after all." said Abal, mirroring the same grin.

Izz sneered. "Men are fools."

But taking in once more the amazing flaming beauties before her in the evening light, Zelda couldn't be sure if she agreed with them. What man, fool or not, wouldn't be taken by such creatures? It was even harder to believe that somehow, for some freak reason, she had been chosen to become one of them.

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They left shortly after the sun had set. Their horses refreshed, their bellies filled, they pounded back out into the desert. Sand crashed about them like waves of a sea from the beating of hooves. On this night the moon had turned black, and stars watched them from above. Zelda could feel the wear on her body, the aching of her legs and back from riding so much, and the tenderness of sun burnt skin. But her heart flew ahead of her, dragging her along with it to Link. So quickly did she fly, flanked by red-head Gerudo and Impa, fear had yet to catch up with her. Hope trilled within her chest, tight and fragile. _You better not be dead,_ she thought fiercely, _after I came all the way out here for you. You really know how to respect a princess, don't you? Making me lower myself so._

It made her angry. She strung up her pride, holding it up tight. But still the worry tainted her peace. She shouldn't fool herself. She thought of the blue sky and his soft smiles; of his fingertips against her hair and the low voice telling her stories as she drifted off to sleep. Her chest tightened. She wanted the Gerudo or Impa to talk to her, to ease her distress, but the heavy thudding of hooves and swoosh of sand made that impossible. The desert air, though dreadfully hot the day before, grew cool and her skin soon grew numb with goose bumps. Her eyes dropped wearily. And yet they rode on. They had to. They must.

_Hrathbern._

Abal had spoken of magic. Of an old, dark, hungry magic. What kind of place had Hrathbern become? Knowing now that the horrors rumored to be within it—of torture, sickness, death, work, starvation, and some unspeakable evil—she could only guess something of that terrible wickedness had remained. But why would the men of the desert take Link there? Did they plan to kill him within its walls after he had been reminded of all its horrors? If so…if so…they were probably already too late.

But she couldn't think that. Not this far. Not in this dark night and empty desert. Not with her own uncertainty held at bay within her heart, fighting to break forth and overwhelm her. Jeremy. Her mother. Her father. She had fled them. She had fled them to this desert to reach him, for what he gave her. But what was it he had given to her? What was it that Link awakened in her that Jeremy never could?

There horses grew tired eventually and cantered to a slow gallop, but Zelda gave it barely any notice. Her hands were aching against the thin leather of the reins and her tired eyes itched and burned. Snippets of Link's stories kept playing through her head, lulling her into a weary daze: _A girl with beautiful wings of freedom…a golden apple…so Tall Stone adorned the cloak…and they were together, forever…_

A rich, throbbing sound broke the quiet, snapping Zelda from her revere. From in front of her one of the Gerudo, she guessed Abal, sung out a long note that trembled into a fervent, unearthly song. Hasna (Zelda could tell through the darkness by her great height), joined in at a lower pitch, harmonizing with Abal's song.

"Listen closely, Zel." said Badra from besides her. "This is our heritage."

"What are they singing?" she asked quietly. Izz joined in next with a trilling higher note jumping in between the others. The eerie sound sent shivers up Zelda's spine and at the same time enthralled her. A familiar wild desire rose within her: a desire to run barefoot across the sand, to race the wind, climb trees, and flee wild into the unknown. A desire that she had long ago decided couldn't fit in her world.

"A prayer. To the Mother." She put a finger to her voluptuous lips. "Now listen carefully so that you too may know how to pray."

The Gerudos' prayer rose up to the night sky. Soon Hasna as well as Badra joined in, creating a melodic chorus that both irked and inspired Zelda. It was strange. It seemed almost off key. And yet it was beautiful and more passionate than any music Zelda could remember hearing. At the sound their horses were pushed once more into an all out sprint, snorting and puffing in the wind with their new energy. Zelda's numbness washed away as though a memory of the sun's warmth had found its way to her.

They raced on. Zelda's cowl unraveled in the rush of their speed, flying behind her like a ragged banner along with her ragged, gold braid. Impa rode close beside her, scarlet eyes sparking.

By the time the Gerudo had finished their prayer a rocky cliff had loomed before them, casting its cool shadow upon them. On touching the darkness the horses stumbled to a stop, rearing and screaming in fright, breaking the ambiance the song had set with a clash. Impa managed to hold on while Zelda got thrown completely off. Her crazed stead stamped away from the darkness, flailing its mane, eyes rolling.

None of the horses could be coaxed to go any further.

"Guess we'll have to walk from here on out." said Abal's solemn voice. "Bless the Mother for getting us here so quickly."

Zelda got to her feet, rubbing her aching backside. Impa appeared at her side to assist her, her fingers hot and like stone against her arms. "Is this it?"

The dark face of the tall cliff seemed to be staring back down at her. Even over the screams of the panicked horses the night seemed abnormally quiet. She couldn't restrain a shudder.

"Yep." Izz squinted at it. "Say hello to the backside of Hrathbern."

Not even a bird called out in the silence. It made it more than ominous.

Eventually their horses quieted, but only once they had gained a good distance away from the shadow of the cliff, which was faint in the moonless night. Zelda checked her thin blade at her side and the dagger in her boot while the others checked their own scimitars. Impa kept her face turned to the looming mass. As one, Zelda and the Gerudo met eyes, nodded, and begun their way to the other side.

_That's right, jackass. You better not be dead. _


	17. Hrathbern

Chapter 17: Hrathbern

"So…that's Hrathbern."

On the other side of the tall, shadowy form was a blocky, tall tower hewn from the cliff face. It's tiny, dark windows were but mere squares set high up on the tower. In the darkness she couldn't see them, but Zelda assumed that each window was held in by thick bars. Over the year of its abandonment sand had piled up in the doorway. It was several feet in front of this that they stood, unconsciously huddling together at its presence. Something cold, heavy, and ominous emanated from the building. Impa stood so close to Zelda she could feel her armor periodically brushing against her. Their shadows flickered on Hrathbern's side from the faint, warm glow of the handheld torches of the Gerudo. Zelda didn't want to go inside.

Izz shuddered.

"How do we know they threw him in there?" she asked. "I mean, honestly, who would be able to stand it long enough to get someone in anyways?"

"If we're lucky, then, he'll be near the entrance." said Abal.

Hasna shook her head. "No, then it wouldn't be effective. Then he could've just crawled right out."

Badra agreed with her. "If any boy were to have spirit, it'd be that one. They'd have to stuff him deep."

"Are you guys just going to ignore me?" said Izz. "How do we even know those cretins really did put him in there? What if they just took him away once they got here because they were too chicken? Huh? We can't just dive in there and risk our necks without knowing!"

"He's there." murmured Fa. None of them turned to look at her, but their eyes flickered to her briefly. Zelda could hear Izz gritting her teeth.

"And what's your reasoning?" she snapped. Fa simply looked at her, her face impassive. Her gold eyes flashed with a deep intelligence in the dim light of the stars.

"This place would be the most deserving of him, to them. Their hearts are irrational except for this."

"But—"

"Enough, Izz." snapped Abal.

"But why do we even—kah! Din! Whatever! I'm staying out here!" she folded her arms tightly. "We need a watch anyways. And dammit, if we all die in there, someone needs to be able to report back to Nabooru."

Half of the Gerudo sighed in exasperation, except for Hasna, who bit her lip.

"I…I'm going to stay with her."

"You too, Hasna?"

The girl's face scrunched up and she hid it quickly behind her free hand, the other holding aloft her torch. For the first time, Zelda noticed her trembling. Her hands shook upon her face.

"Guys, please, you know I was never the brave one." Though she did all she could to sound dignified in the face of her sisters, Zelda could still hear the whimper on the edge of her voice. "And Izz is right, this…this is suicidal. He's probably already dead anyways."

Zelda's breath caught and she rushed to hide it. Badra's eyes flickered to her, eyebrows tilted in concern.

"Fine, Hasna." said Abal, her patience growing thin. "Stay out here and babysit Izz. If anything happens, you know the call. We'll hear you."

Izz hissed at the insult, but said nothing. Hasna continued to hide her face, retreating to Izz's side. Badra approached Zelda with her hands outstretched.

"Zel, your boy is stubborn. There's a good chance—"

But Abal slapped her hand away and took a stern step between her and Zelda. Impa tensed besides her, for Abal's face had gone hard.

"You are a woman, Zel. You are going to behave like one and be strong. There is a good chance there's a dead man in there and I need you to keep your head on if we're going to get out of this alive. If _you_ want to get out of this alive. Hrathbern's magic plays on our weaknesses—on our fears, our sorrows, our regrets, our guilt—and if you let these take over your heart its shadows will find you and smother you till you become one of them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." said Zelda.

"What did I say, then?"

"I…I need to be strong. I can't let myself get caught up in my emotions—"

"Or any of your sob stories, for that matter." Abal lifted a finger. "And keep your sword nearby. The mother will guide you if you are open to her. But if you have given up, nothing can guide you."

"Given up?" Zelda frowned. "Why would I give up?"

Izz growled impatiently, but Abal silenced her with a look before pointing to the square, dark windows.

"Do you see any bars on those windows, Princess?"

"I can't tell. It's so dark."

"Exactly. Because there are none. There was no reason to have any on the windows because there were plenty of bars around the prisoners own minds. That is the curse of Hrathbern. _That_ is why it's so dangerous. And the magic is only stronger now because of its desolation. It's hungry."

"You speak as though it's a living thing."

"That's because it is, Zel." said Badra softly. She stepped aside Abal and took her hand. "If it gets too dangerous we have to turn back, okay? Listen to Fa. She'll know when we have to leave. She's very observant and will be able to tell when we're falling."

"Won't we be able to tell?"

"No," said Abal. "The magic will have buried your senses. So, are you ready?"

Zelda looked back up at the looming prison before them. Those dark windows looked so much like eyes, watching carelessly, malevolently. For a moment its great bulk seemed to totter towards her, threatening to smash her beneath its weight, but she shook her head, knowing it wasn't so. It was just a great, stone building before her. Nothing else. And Link was inside there. She couldn't stop here. She couldn't stop while the owner of those kind hands and soft smiles was trapped beneath its overwhelming presence. She turned back to Abal, commanding her body to stand still and to cease its quaking.

"Is the magic all that's in there?" she asked.

A collective shiver ran through the group, which was quickly disguised by the Gerudo as changing feet or scratching their ears.

"No." said Fa.

And that's all that was said on it. Zelda was too afraid to ask, and part of her suggested that the Gerudo weren't entirely sure what was in their either. In fervent apology for her cowardice, Hasna offered her torch to Zelda, which Impa took up for her. Abal motioned to her, Impa, Badra, and Fa, and collectively they gingerly climbed their way in through the broken entryway, their small flames held aloft.

All that she could see or feel at first was sand and that heavy sandstone, along with the chills of the night. The room felt cooler, not unlike a cellar or a basement would. Yet it was large. Very large. It stretched the entire length of the building so much that their torchlight couldn't reach the corners. Their hidden contents taunted Zelda as she quickly turned away from them, goose bumps prickling along her skin.

"Stay close," said Impa, her voice low in Zelda's ear.

As they made it to the other side of the room to the sandy staircase, Zelda wondered to herself if she should be regretting dragging the Gerudo along, as well as Impa. What if one of them died? She shook her head at the thought, remembering Abal's warning. No sob stories. She smiled dryly to herself.

They climbed. For a while the hallways they came upon held only cells, as was expected of a prison. Her heart would leap as she looked inside each, praying for a sight of Link, but inside were only bones. She had half been expecting them as well. It didn't change the shudder or shock she felt at the sight of them, yellow and brown with decay. She had always thought bones to be white. That's how all the pictures had made them out to be. Chains filled each cell and some held entire skeletons in their grasps, their jaws unhinged and loose with time. Could this much decay really happen within only a year?

Rats' shadows scurried on the edge of their torchlight.

At first, it had been silent except for their footsteps. But now she was beginning to hear things. Unnamable sounds. Were those footsteps? No. More like shuffles. Or were they shuffles? Was that something being dragged? That had to be the clinking of the chain. More than once she looked behind her in apprehension of a sound she thought she could hear, only to regret it as her fear threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of such deep darkness. The last time Impa's hand found her shoulder and squeezed it hard in reassurance, turning her back around.

No one spoke other than to warn of a crumbling step or to duck, for many decaying beams would lean down from their places, heavy with age. Zelda wished they would. The silence and the sounds were beginning to grind on her.

But why was she being so cowardly? A voice answered back to her in the recesses of her mind from the quiet place of her contemplation.

_That is because you are cowardly._

To this she could not deny. She had been cowardly in the face of Jeremy and her father. If she had simply had the courage to rebel, to fight back, everything with Jeremy would have been resolved and he wouldn't be half dead in a stall. And Link wouldn't have had his heart broken by her so many times. But was that what she wanted?

_You just want to be loved,_ whispered the voice. _Just like the next petty woman. You want to kiss and be touched. You're…needy._

And she was. She had been. She had leapt from one man to the other so quickly. How did she know that she even felt anything for Link when she had sworn so many times that she had loved Jeremy? How could she know that she was loyal when she so quickly gave up on Jeremy just because it was hard? Why did Link love her? It must be as Jeremy said. He didn't know her yet. He had only watched her as a kitchen boy. He had never seen her in those dark corners, behind the view of others, when she had been lustful…wanton…careless…and jealous.

The memory rose up in her like an icy fire, chilling and burning her. Her jealousy. Her hatred. She had hated that woman so much. She had hated herself. Her mother had always taught her to be kind, to be compassionate, for that was the true strength of a noble woman. Her mother…she had been selfish and needy then as well. If she had just helped out more, not stressed out her mother so much with her rebellious antics, she might've had the health to live through her brother's birth. Perhaps, even, her brother would have lived. It was what the physicians had always said: stress when a woman is with child is the worst thing for her. And she had been more than enough stress; always getting lost, always embarrassing her parents before nobles with her boyish antics, always tearing her expensive dresses on her so called 'adventures'. Even her father had said so…that she was causing her mother too much unnecessary stress…

The blue sky came to her mind. The feel of the birch tree's bark and waxy leaves. The touch of the cool water. The sharp tang of the wild apple. Those things were all evil, forbidden, and wrong of her. She should have been a lady, should have done as her mother had said. She should have not yelled at her for freedom, she should not have demanded for so much.

And she hadn't changed. She was still so selfish, so prideful, and so wanton.

The feel of the sandstone crumbling beneath her fingertips startled her out of her thoughts. She had lifted up her hand to catch herself from a small trip and it had landed on the wall besides her. Up ahead of her the Gerudo were growing farther away. Impa nudged her.

"We must hurry." she murmured. "It would not do us any good to be left behind."

Zelda pulled her hand away, contemplating the thin layer of orange-ish dust on her hand. Why bother? Perhaps this was where she belonged. The thought frightened Zelda and she shook the thought away. Could this be the magic of Hrathbern? But she hadn't felt anything. All she felt was cold. All she saw was darkness and the occasional square of dim grey that was the windows near the ceiling.

But her mind wouldn't stay silent. It continued walking her back to her mother, to Jeremy, to Link, to her father, and the small, bluish infant that was her brother. Had she, in a way, killed them?

The Gerudo waited for them at the top of the stairs. This hallway was different than those before. It spread wide into the depths of the cliff and was filled with wooden tables and benches. A few tables lay on their sides, and others were shattered completely. A strange, dark stain ran the length of the floor between some and splotched in other places. Shadowy debris filled corners and empty spaces. Their light cast too many shadows to make out the trash completely, but there were two that Zelda could see too clearly: a worn, filthy shirt and a toppled cup. Inside she could see the silhouette of a spider and its web.

"How are we doing, Fa?" asked Abal.

The sound of her voice seemed to awaken Zelda from her thoughts and for the first time she took notice of the state of her companions. All were pale in the yellow firelight and Abal held a distant, wild look to her eyes. But Badra by far looked the worse. Her face had turned grey and her eyes dull. A strange lifelessness had taken place in her expression and her lips moved silently. She flinched when Fa's hand touched her arm. For a moment, she seemed confused at who she saw, then shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I…I guess I was lost in thought." she gave Fa a wan smile that reached neither her own face or Fa herself.

Zelda clutched at her wrists. Before the curse of Hrathbern had only been frightening. Now, in its reality displayed before her, horror was trickling into Zelda. Badra had been the most cheery and optimistic of the group. What reason would she have to look so…so…

"You must leave."

Badra shook her head furiously. "No! We need to help Zel! He can't be too far ahead."

Zelda squeezed her wrist harder. "Badra, please, you have no reason to be so loyal to me. Please, don't risk yourself if Fa says it's too much."

"But…Zel," Badra shook her head again. "No, I don't want to. I don't want to be weak." And then, more quietly, "I don't want to be left behind." She looked surprised on hearing the words. Zelda wondered if she had not planned on saying them. Zelda had not realized that Izz and Hasna were the only ones that were scared. Her? How could she not? But it was the Gerudo, raised with Hrathbern so close, that knew the true depths of its horrors.

How could she be doing this to these people? To Badra? She should have gone in alone, not demand of them to come with her. She should have left them all outside. She really was a coward—she really was needy—and she still was causing far too much trouble than was necessary.

Abal approached Badra with her mouth opening, probably to reprimand her, when Badra's head snapped up, her eyes wide and searching into the darkness. Then, quite suddenly, her gaze froze in one place. All her muscles seized up and she stood as though ice, staring into the darkness.

"Badra?"

Then Zelda heard it. The sounds. Except this time, it was defiantly shuffling and coming from right behind her. Abal and Fa had seemed to hear it too and were slowly following Badra's horrified gaze. Before Zelda could reconsider, she too turned around.

And her eyes met those of a corpse. Dry, shriveled, and with its flesh peeling back to reveal the white, yellow bones. Its eyes were gone, true, but the dark, empty holes shot through her gaze. Her muscles seized up. Her heart flew to her mouth to scream, but she couldn't make a sound. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't look away.

Somehow, someway, it had paralyzed her.

It lifted a withered arm to her, beckoning her. Its face was wrong, for its jaw seemed to have been melded into its upper jaw. Instead of lips in its hardened, dry flesh there was a hole, equally dark as its eyes and whistling with its own dead breath. But how could that be? This _thing_ was dead. It had to be. It must be.

Impa leapt across her vision, a long stiletto raised in one hand, her other rearing back the torch to throw. But for a briefest of moments as her dagger bit into its side, its dark holes found her and she too froze in place. Then, Zelda had to watch, unable to move, as the creature wrapped its spindly limbs about her nursemaid and lower its whistling mouth to Impa's neck. It began to moan. Impa was sinking, her face wracked with pain.

But it was enough. The monster's gaze was broken and the Gerudo leapt forward, their swords flying to the monsters grip. It shrieked an unearthly sound that chilled Zelda's blood as their swords sliced into it, cutting off its arms, its legs, and finally its head. The corpse collapsed to the ground. Impa stumbled, then fell to her knees, blood dripping from her neck.

Zelda cried out in agony, reaching for her guardian.

"Impa! Impa! Please, are you going to be okay?"

Impa's arms trembled beneath her when Zelda came to embrace her, but her lips were firmly put in a straight line. This reassured her.

"I will live, Princess. Thanks to your friends." Her straight line returned to her usual frown. Her arms shook worse than ever. "But we must find…find your husband soon." One of her elbows gave in.

Behind her, Abal was swearing profusely in both her native tongue and in Hyrulian. Fa examined Impa critically.

"Redead." she murmured. "You should leave this aura quickly."

"I will not leave the Princess." Impa said firmly, leaning back onto her knees.

"You must," said Fa calmly, "Or you will become one of them."

Zelda couldn't tell which emotion had reign over her at the moment, for she was flooded with them. Shock, terror, dread, sorrow—all rushed through her with a undermingling of panic at Fa's words.

"You mean those creatures bites turn you into one of them?" she could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate.

Fa's eyes took hers seriously, begging her to be calm. "No. But she has been weakened to the curse. She stays here, she will be one."

Impa closed her eyes.

"No."

"You must."

"Not until the Princess decides she is satisfied with this place."

Abal came over in a flurry, her teeth clenched.

"Stop being so stupid, Sheikah! Do you want to be a zombie?"

"Redead." corrected Fa coolly.

Behind them, Badra stood with her sword still raised, her knees trembling.

Zelda felt cold. Trembling. Shuddering. Impa had to leave now. It was over with. They were done. And they hadn't found Link. If he wasn't dead in this place already, he would soon be. Yet she found her hope waning. How could he not with those sort of creatures crawling all over the place? What if they had chained him to a wall and one of them came along? What if, when she did finally found him, all that would be left of would be a corpse with a paralyzing gaze and a lust for her neck? Would his eyes have had time to decay? Would his sky blue eyes—

The thought brought Zelda's face to her knees, her fingers clawing at her hair. Terror as she had never known shook her frame, clawed at her very soul. What was this place? What the fucking hell was this place?

And yet, rooted so deep into her heart she couldn't uproot it, she had to know. She had to at least know his fate. She had to try. And quietly, oh so very quietly, a voice whispered that she belonged to this place. She had death buried beneath her fingernails and in her heart. She didn't deserve to be loved. Link deserved her efforts for his own that he had given so freely to love her. And perhaps then she could forgive herself. Perhaps then she could finally be free to love running with the wind or getting lost in forests. Perhaps then she could finally tell her own stories again.

"Impa, get out of here."

At first, she wasn't heard by anyone but Impa, for Abal had gone into another stream of curses. Zelda wondered if it must be her way of expressing fear.

"Princess?" asked Impa.

"That is a command, Impa. Don't make me use your full name. Get out of here."

Impa scowled. "And you are coming?"

Zelda hesitated. "No." her voice sounded hollow. It sounded strangely like a death sentence.

By now she had the attention of Gerudo.

"What?" exclaimed Abal. Even Fa blinked at her in faint disbelief. Badra, however, stared at her, unsurprised.

Zelda straightened and once more commanded her body still and strong. She had to be strong. Her quest wasn't done yet. On the floor a ways Impa's torch flickered, blackening the stone floor with its heat. In the distance she could hear more shuffling and still yet unidentified noises.

"I can't leave here until I at least know Link's fate." Zelda bowed her head, wishing she had not left her cowl by her horse. She wanted something to hide the trembling of her mouth, to hide the betrayal of her fear. "Please, leave me be. I can't ask you to bear this danger any further. As one last request, please, help Impa out."

The next words Impa spoke were more biting than ever, filled with shaking rage. "How can you ask such a cruel thing of me?" Though her voice was restrained, Zelda cringed as though Impa were shouting at the top of her longs. "Take back your command. Do not make such demands of me—such demands to betray my oaths. I will refuse you."

"Not if I use your full name, and you know it." said Zelda.

"Then I shall throw away my honor as a Sheikah!" spat Impa. "I will not—", but her breath ran short and she heaved for air. Blood had flowed down her neck and had begun to stain the blue cloth beneath her armor. Fa pushed Impa's head back, relaxing her neck and easing the passage of her breath. Impa's lips kept moving in refusals. Zelda took a breath. She couldn't let someone else die because of her. She refused. Damn it if she was a princess. She didn't care anymore. She decided to take the logical route.

"Can you walk, Impa?"

Impa didn't have to answer. They already knew it.

"Then you would only hold me back. You wouldn't be able to protect me anyways."

"Then I demand you return with me." said Impa, weak though still equally enraged.

"No." Zelda, steeling herself. She picked up the fallen torch and turned to continue on through the darkness.

"Wait!"

But it wasn't Impa. It was Badra.

"I said I would help you. I'm not going to make a half-ass job of it now." she said.

"This is all mad." said Abal. "We must all leave. Enough with this petty argument. Will you all stop being idiots?"

But that only made Zelda walk further away. Ahead she thought she could hear it waiting, whatever 'it' was. It waited to reveal to her all her greatest horrors, or perhaps, her greatest hope. Badra trotted besides her, her own torch uplifted and her sword still out.

"Badra! Get back here or so help me I'll make you!"

"Shut up, Abal! You can't command me! Nor can you, Fa, so don't even try."

"Gah, damn this! Zel, you too! Get back here! None of this is worth all the gold in the world, the deals off!"

But Zelda said nothing. If she said anything more she would lose her courage and collapse. That couldn't happen. She had to know.

"Badra!"

"Please take care of her, guys. I swear I'll come back." said Badra.

And they came to another set of stairs. Up ahead there was darkness. Abal was still yelling from the other side of the room. Wasn't she afraid of attracting more Redeads?

"Fine! We'll drag the Shiekah out and then we're coming right back in for you. You got that? _You got that?_ If you die I swear I'll-I swear I'll-"

But whatever it is she would do to them, they never found out. The steps moved beneath them once more and they were rising. Badra walked close by Zelda.

"Please, Badra," whispered Zelda, "don't do this. I don't want you to die for me."

"Save your breath." said Badra with a smile. She appeared to have recovered a bit more health and life to her face, for a hint of her brightness remained. "If it was Abal, Fa, or any of the others, I would do the same. We're sisters. It doesn't matter our background, we stick together. Especially us blondies." She winked in good humor. Zelda found herself smiling back weakly, a faint flame of warmth flickering in her bosom. But just as soon it vanished and the two were swallowed up once more in darkness.

They came to twisting hallways filled with more cells. Though they had long been empty, none of their doors were opened. Zelda thought she could hear the echoes of the moans of the corpses somewhere in the building, but they were distant enough. Or at least, she thought they were. Was it Link they were feasting on now? The image of his blue eyes, sunken within a rotten face with a hole for a mouth arose into her mind and she very nearly stopped, clutching the torch she held till her knuckles were white. Beside her, Badra turned her head in all directions, eyeing the shadows their torches couldn't reach.

"Please, Badra," said Zelda, her voice hoarse.

Ignoring her plea, Badra responded in an attempt to sound light-hearted, "So, how did your boy convince you to marry him?"

"He didn't." said Zelda, glad for the distraction. "My father arranged it. I hated him, at first."

"You hated him? Well, he is a man, I guess that's enough of an excuse. But pray tell, was there an excuse otherwise?"

Zelda glanced into a cell, regretting it instantly when she found a body not yet fully decomposed slumped against the bars, its shriveled eyes watching her. "I was in love with someone else."

"Wow. Talk about drama. So…why are you doing all this now? When did you marry him anyways?"

"About two weeks ago."

"What?" and she actually did sound surprised. "And now you're hunting through death itself for him? I thought you just said you loved someone else."

The cold sank deeper into Zelda. Even Badra thought the same. She really was a whore. She really was disloyal. A familiar feeling tickled her, however, and it was that same emotion when she had looked out across the horizon up in that birch tree. Before she could really consider an intelligent answer, she said to Badra, "Because he made me feel good about myself. He made me feel…free to do or be whatever I want to be, whether it was yelling at him or climbing trees or…"

Free. Badra gave her an understanding grin. In the darkness her hair looked just as dark as the others rather than its usual orange, and Zelda was reminded of the Gerudo of her dreams. The Mother. The only man that had earned her respect and loyalty did so by giving her freedom and allowing her to do as she desired. Perhaps…but Zelda couldn't finish the sentence. To do so would feel like pushing it through tar, such was the heavy depression of her thoughts. She prayed Impa would not die. She prayed that she would not try to follow.

At the end of the hall they came to several more doors. Badra and Zelda stopped hesitantly.

"So…" she said, "pick a door. Any door."

Zelda thought she heard the clinking of chains. The hair on her neck stood on end.

"But what if another one of those…_things_ are behind it?"

Badra shrugged. "It's the risk that comes with the job of plundering through old evil prisons. I'll be here, though. And the Mother. She is with us too." She didn't sound like she believe her own words though.

Zelda looked up and down the doors. There were five in total. Four lined the wall before them and at the end of the hall was one standing on its lonesome. Somehow, this one scared her most of all. Suddenly overwhelmed she wrapped her arms around her head.

"I don't know." she whimpered. "I don't know. Badra, what if he's one of them? What if he's—"

"Don't think that." said Badra sharply. "Remember what Abal said. We can't let our emotions carry us away in here. Our weaknesses will call to the shadows."

Zelda thought she heard chains clicking again. The image of the hanging corpse came to her mind once more, but she pushed away. Badra was right. She had to move on.

Her mind scrambled for a comforting thought. Anything. She thought of horses, she smell of straw and her father's big, warm hugs. Above all these, however, rose the image of the Gerudo dancing in the bright desert sun. Sunshine. What she wouldn't give to feel that hot, desert heat once more and be blinded by that great light. She wanted to dance again and to feel her hair swish across her back and arms. The Gerudo's laughing eyes came to her mind, and her wild dance exaggerated her bronze skin.

_What is it that you want?_

Zelda dropped her arms, lifting her face to look around, that golden image playing in her mind. A flicker of red and gold moved in the corner of her gaze. Startled, she looked down the hall, but saw nothing.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

She could feel strange warmth. The musky, rotten cell of the prison was being blown past her and she thought she could catch a whiff of the hot, desert sand. She had never before noticed that sand had a smell. It was coming from down the hall, from the direction of the single door. Her feet moved, her hands reached out. Yes. Yes, she felt something. A warmth, that smell.

"Let's do this one."

Badra followed her down the hall to the lone door. With her heart thumping loudly in her ears, Zelda reached out a trembling hand to the oddly hot metal of the handle and pulled open the door. The firelight from their torches rushed in to fill the small space. And within, surrounded by bones and filth and piles of sand…

Was Link.

"Oh, for the love of Nayru, Link!" Zelda cried, jumping inside and dropping her torch to the floor, where it sputtered as though in protest. He was roughly chained to the wall and his ragged, green cap lay at his feet. Pale grey as death, he hardly gave any sign that he had even heard her. From his hand hanging from a cuff, his pinky twitched. Zelda's hands found his face and brought it up to her view. To her relief it wasn't shrunken or misshaped like the Redeads, but it was haunted. His eyes were empty, lifeless, and his lips were cracked and bleeding. His long, thick blond hair clustered in dirty mats around his face. His eyes seemed to look through her, yet the white lips quivered at her touch.

"Z…Zelda?" his voice was little more than a whisper.

"Yes, I came for you. We're going to get you out of here."

Slowly, very slowly, he blinked. Then he took a quick, guttural breath.

"No. No, I can't. I can't leave."

"What are you talking about?" Hope had flared into her chest at the sight of him, but something within her faltered at his words. An echo of Abal's words came to her, about how the prisoner's bars were around their own minds.

"Can't…can't leave." His eyes closed. "Zelda…let me tell you a story."

"A story? Now?" Zelda pulled her hands away in exasperation and his chin plopped back to his chest. "Can't it wait? We have to go! There's monsters all over the place—and this suicidal freak curse—we have to get out—"

"I once was a soldier, Zelda." he said. It was as though he hardly heard her. "Do you know what soldiers do, Zelda? Well, I was a tool of war and just an ordinary soldier, not what everyone thinks I am now. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind to run when the call came. I guess it's grandpa's indoctrination hammered into me. I am descended from Hyrulian knights. But I went, and one time we were sent to this city—one of the bigger cities of the desert. Not the capital, but I was told without it that they would be hard pressed for supplies and we might get an edge."

A thrill of dread filled her as she realized where he was going with this. "No, Link, you have to stop. You have to get yourself out of this, okay? Badra!" she turned to find her friend standing dazed in the doorway, her eyes distance once more and her sword arm lax. "Badra! Snap out of it! Don't you know how to pick locks? Get over here and help me." Badra shook herself, squeezing her eyes tightly before coming forward, reaching through the sash at her waist. Zelda heard a distant moan, but it wasn't distant enough. Bile rose to the back of her throat.

"I was in the second division." said Link in his flat, hoarse voice. "So when I came it was all dark and the first division was already ahead. The night was alight with fire. Have you ever seen such fire before, Zelda? It turns everything orange until even the night sky is nothing but black and orange. No stars. No moon. Just smoke and ash and orange, orange, orange." His head wagged from side to side with each 'orange'. "And they were screaming. Women. Screaming. Men don't scream as high, you know that, my Zelda? Even while they're being gutted and sliced. And I was running forward, everyone pushing me, and I couldn't breathe right. It was as though the smoke had turned the air to acid. And they were screaming, Zelda. Screaming, falling, the women—but the women were sobbing. They weren't just screaming. Do you know why Zelda?"

"No. No. Stop talking, Link, stop it! You're going to…you're going to destroy yourself like this! Remember what you promised me? You said you'd never go crazy like those old veterans. Remember? Badra!" Badra had frozen in the act of sticking her pick in the keyhole of one of his cuffs, her shoulders slumping. She moved at her words, but only for a moment. She bowed her head.

"Zelda…I can't."

"You can't what?" Zelda's voice had hit an extra octave.

"They were being raped. Every last one of them—"

"_Don't tell me you're going nuts too!"_ she cried above Link's monotonous voice.

"And I…I didn't…I didn't kill them. I didn't stop them. I shuffled ahead with the rest. But I saw, my Zelda…I saw…"

"_Badra don't leave me here!"_ she nearly screamed. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, hot and sticky. Chains were clinking outside the doorway. A moan echoed down the hallway. She could taste it now, that bile on the back of her throat.

"And then we had our swords out. I can't tell you the rush it is to be together like that and to be moving all as one in a great kill. They fell before me, and there blood glinted orange too. It's strange, that fire. Have you ever seen such fire, Zelda?"

Badra was falling. She was slipping down the wall. It was as though Link's darkness was contagious and she too was getting shut up into the hellhole that was the true prison of Hrathbern. She could hear shuffling now. Panic thrilling through her, she smacked Badra across the face. The girl looked up at her, stunned, but her golden eyes found Zelda's and it was enough. She took up the pick once more and went at Link's cuffs. Zelda turned to Link.

"Look at me. Link? Please?"

"I killed them. All of them. And then watched as my comrades plucked away their women like fruit from a tree. And the children…" the monotone of Link's voice finally broke, and with a half-born, gut wrenching sob he said, "oh, the children!"

His hand fell to his side as it was released and Badra moved to the other. It was behind her now. Perhaps more than one. She could feel its dead, paralyzing gaze upon the back of her neck. She mustn't look back. She mustn't meet its eyes.

"_Link!"_

"There's no honor in me!" he wept. "How can there be? I might as well have raped and slaughtered all those women and children myself. How can the men I laughed and joked with return home after that to their sisters? To their wives? To their own children? How can I? How can I…"

There was a flame of gold in her mind's eye—the flaming sun. It waited for her on the horizon. The sound of drums in her blood as her heart pounded. In a sudden flare of revelation, watching Link weep before her and hearing his story, she realized what it was. She realized what it was she truly wanted, now more than ever before, and she was sure of it now.

Freedom. Absolute freedom. Freedom from guilt, freedom from regulation, freedom from other's expectations, and freedom from the inability to do nothing; freedom from being powerless.

And this was the last place she would get it.

In a fervor of adrenaline she took up his face and kissed him fiercely, stopping his mouth from naming off the next horror. She could taste his blood in her mouth.

"Damn it," she said, almost yelled. "I love you, will you stop being a dumb ass and wake up?!"

Link blinked in surprise. He looked up at her, and for the first time he seemed to truly see her. "What did…"

"I said I love you, now get your sorry ass off the ground!"

He blinked again, shock evident on his features. Then he looked up over her shoulder and his eyes froze on whatever was behind her. His breath caught. She could hear a faint whistling- three different rhythms of whistling.

_Oh, shit…_


	18. The Mother

Chapter 18: The Mother

She could feel their breath, clammy and putrid upon her scalp and neck. Link's eyes were ever blue in the torchlight, wide and glassy, and in their reflection she saw them: black hole eyes, brown, rotted face, and the black oval of their mouths whistling with their strange, dead breath. She could hear Badra give a wail of despair and sink to the floor. In that moment she knew she was alone. She knew she was dead.

But it was strange. She didn't feel cold. All this time, across the nighttime desert and through the prison, she had felt like ice almost to the point of numbing. Instead she felt hot—boiling hot, in fact, as though the great desert sun were shining down on her and the sands of the desert were reflecting it back up into every crevice of her body.

And she heard it. Not a sound, but something less than a thought.

_So, what is it that you want?_

And in the second she felt the fingers of the Redeads curling around her neck, she whispered it to the dark air.

"Freedom."

A flash of red and gold scoured across the corner of her vision. There was a howl-the fingers retracted. A great flaming elation rose within as a sense of power filled her. Confidence as she had never known flooded her blood and she leapt to her feet, pulling her thin sword out in one, quick smooth motion. Before her stood a sight she had thought to see only in her dreams.

A transparent, glimmering vision of a Gerudo stood between her and the Redeads, her curved scimitar raised just as Zelda raised her sword now. Her long, blood-red hair billowed about her back by some unseen, unfelt wind, and her bronze skin seemed to glow. The Redeads eyes Zelda never saw, for her eyes were drawn to the shining silver of the Mother's sword.

It fell forward. So did Zelda's. The Mother spun; so did Zelda. The scimitar sliced into the rotten flesh right as Zelda's thin blade did the same. Her arm raised. Zelda's raised. It fell. Her's fell.  
And they danced as they had beneath the sun, silver blades flashing. The thrum of her heartbeat served as her drum, and the whistled of the blade through the air served as those keening, desert horns.

It seemed to last a millennium, dancing the sword dance along with the Mother. But then, quite suddenly, it was finished and three corpses lay at Zelda's feet in the flickering torchlight, their decapitated and sliced limbs twitching. The vision of the Mother still stood, though fainter now, barely a shadow of the former radiant vision. Zelda stood there dazed with elation, breathless with the experience. Behind her, Link weakly croaked her name and Badra sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Father," she cried. "I'm sorry my hair has turned red. No, it's not Mother, please don't blame her!"

"Badra." Zelda reached a hand to her as she wept and apologized to the stone wall, her hand still clenched around Link's remaining cuff and her torch abandoned dangerously close to his leg. He didn't seem to notice, though.

"What just…why are you…wearing that…?" said Link, bewildered.

"Badra, it's okay. It's just the magic." Then she heard them: more moans and shuffles. The shadows of Hrathbern smelt a feast. Zelda clenched Badra's shoulder and, as she did, she saw the Mother's hand reach forward as well and squeeze her shoulder with her. Warmth poured into Badra, bringing color to her cheeks, and her sobs ceased. She sniffed and lifted her head. Zelda watched as the ever fading image of the Mother walked around Badra and lifted her up. Badra's eyes found hers and a look of shock and wonder came across her face before the apparatus smiled and vanished completely. She looked back down at the cuff between her hands and the haggard, green clad hero attached to it.

"Oh!" then she heard the distant moans too. "Shit!"

"I second that." said Zelda. "Hurry!"

"Zelda, what the hell are you doing here?" Link managed to finally push out.

"Don't you swear at me!"

"You swear at me all the time! Do you have any idea how much danger you've put yourself in? How did you even get here in the first place? And where the hell did you learn the sword like that?" Then, at last, he spied Badra. "Ah… It's one of you. That answers one of my questions. How much did she pay you?"

"Not me," growled Badra. There was a click and the cuff dropped Link's raw wrist. His knees shook as they took on his weight, but he somehow managed to stay on his feet. "Abal agreed to it, really. And the rest of them. I was just along for the ride."

"Ah, Abal." He rubbed his raw wrist gingerly. "I've missed her. Did she get that noose for me as she promised?" He proceeded to stuff his ugly cap back on.

Badra smirked wryly, though weakly, and Zelda for not the first time in her life had grown impatient with his antics. She shoved him staggering forward, wrenching the dagger from her boot and stuffing it into his hand.

"Go, damn it!"

"All right! You're as pushy as ever."

She couldn't believe him. One minute he was bemoaning about slaughtering children and now this? Though, secretly, she knew nothing had changed other than a brief reprieve from the weight of the curse, as the Mother had done with Badra. If they didn't get out of here fast the bars on their minds would return and Redeads would have them wrapped up in their spindly limbs.

Link took up Zelda's fallen torch and Badra followed behind with her own torch into the hallway. They ran to the previous hallway, in which Zelda peeked down only to halt, the back of her neck prickling horribly. Several doors on the cells had opened. Shadows played on the opposite walls as whatever was in them reached through the bars. She felt Link nudge her.

"This way. I know a short cut."

She said nothing, running after Link with Badra as he half staggered, half ran to the last door in the hall. He flung it open and they followed. Badra slammed the door behind them to the chorus of shuffling steps and moans, swearing.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said.

The staircase plunged into darkness at a steep angle. As Link stumbled down it on his shaking legs, Zelda feared he would fall and topple. She reached out a hand to catch the loose edge of his tunic, clutching her sword in her other hand. He glanced back at her tug, but otherwise continued onward.

Down, down they plunged, spiders filling the corners and their webs stretching across the stairway. More than once Zelda spotted the carcasses of scorpions watched by some great, gleaming arachnid. Yet no matter how far they descended, the sounds of rotten nails against the wooden door echoed down to them.

The moment the stairs ended, Link fell to one knee, panting. Badra and Zelda followed suit, leaning on their legs but not daring to touch the web infested walls. Sweat dribbled down from beneath Zelda's head wrap and she tore it off with relish.

"Damn," wheezed Link, "Damn, it's like I have no energy. Hate this place. Just as I remember it. Didn't have any energy then either."

"Don't think about it," said Zelda.

There came a faint clicking nose. Zelda held her breath, and for a moment she could hear an equally quiet tapping nose.

"Uh…guys?" said Badra. Her sweaty face had gone even more deathly pale to the point of green. Her eyes were staring into the darkness, wide with terror. She was pointing into the darkness ahead of them.

Link looked up and cursed. Slowly, Zelda did as well, knowing she'd hate what she saw.

In the darkness, glittering in their torchlight, were several round, black eyes atop long, white pincers. Long legs peeked out from the darkness, their hard, black shell gleaming along with its eyes. A round tunnel of web surrounded it. It clicked its pincers. Each one was the length of Zelda's forearm. Its legs had to be twice her height if they had been stretched out long.

"Oh," she said weakly. "That's a big spider."

She felt dizzy, breathless. That was a big spider. Big, big spider. Big big big…

Catching herself against the webby wall she took a deep breath. She couldn't faint now. _Just don't look up,_ she told herself. Besides her, Badra sounded to be hyperventilating.

"Okay, just back away slowly now, girls. One step at a time." Link stood cautiously, lifting his arms in front of Badra and Zelda. The dagger he raised in front of him looked pathetic in front of the gargantuan spider.

The clicking of the pincers suddenly stopped. One of its front legs twitched.

"Link," Zelda whispered, "trade me. Take my sword."

She moved to give it to him, but he hissed at her and she stopped in horror as the spider came forward a bit, clicking more rapidly. Behind her she could hear the scraping of the Redead's nails on the door above.

"Back. Back," He said quietly. "Up the stairs."

Many legs flashed as the spider finally darted forward, pincers wide. Zelda and Badra screamed, bolting up the steps. Meanwhile Link crouched, dagger in hand, and at the last moment he dropped to the floor and rolled beneath the spider. As it turned on him, spitting and clicking, he stabbed up with the slender dagger into its belly. Blue blood splattered onto his face and the spider hissed angrily and scuttled away, dagger still in its abdomen.

"Sword!" yelled Link, raising his hand desperately up the stairs. Both Badra and Zelda leapt forward with their swords as the spider turned on them, dribbling blue blood and angry as hell. It attacked. Link tore Badra's scimitar from her and leapt to the side. The spider crashed into the wall mere inches away from the girls with a stomach twisting _crunch_. Link ran forward, slicing into the side of the spider and taking off several of its legs. It croaked, collapsing to the ground. Link stabbed again, deeper and deeper into its body. It shuddered.

He stood there until he was sure it would not rise again. Then he gingerly pulled out the scimitar and handed it to Badra.

"I hope you're not too sad about losing your dagger, Zelda." he said, grimacing at the fallen spider. She could make out a strange design like a skull upon its back. "I'd get it for you, but I'd have to dig it out from underneath this thing, and we're rather in a hurry."

"Just get us out of here, I could care less!"

Badra wiped the blue blood on the stone steps the best she could, scowling.

"Some short cut," she muttered.

A snap of wood echoed down the stairs. All of them flinched.

"Looks like we don't have a choice." Link glanced down the tunnel made of the web to the lone door. Even in their weak torchlight all could make out the various silhouettes of spiders lazing around the mass of webs. Zelda shuddered. She hated spiders. She hated spiders _so much._ For a moment she got light-headed again and thought she would faint. Being careful to take deep breaths, she took a hold of the edge of Link's tunic once more. As they walked through she kept every ounce focused on the back of Link's head and how much she hated his wind-sock hat. Why did he wear it anyways? But it didn't change how hyper-aware she was of the twitching legs in the webs glowing orange besides their torches, and just how _big_ the spiders were, even though they had to be babies compared to the one lying dead in its own blood behind them.

More snapping wood.

Link yanked on the door. It didn't budge. Badra squeaked. Link yanked again, shoving down the rusted latch. It made a protesting grinding noise.

"Damn, don't do this to me."

He squeezed the handle, gave an all mighty pull. With a sandy crunch like sand paper being pulled out of a thin slot it fell open. Fresh, cool air puffed into their faces. They swiftly fell in, flinging the door closed behind them. Up ahead Zelda could make out a faint, grey light of stars. But the room was very, very long and very, very big. Unpenetrated darkness surrounded them and the silence rang loudly. Somehow, it sounded more disturbing than all the noises had.

"What is this place?" asked Zelda. Not even her voice echoed back to her. It was as though the thick darkness had swallowed it whole.

"I'll tell you outside."

Link awkwardly ran forward, each step trembling, his torch held high and dragging along Zelda who refused to release her hold upon his tunic. Badra followed, sniffing.

"It smells…strange in here." she said.

Link said nothing to this, but struggled to run faster.

"Quickly," he panted. "Quickly, now. By all means don't stop."

Somehow, this sounded strange to Zelda.

The grey light steadily grew closer. Was that the wind Zelda could hear?

"Quickly," Link said again, more urgent. "Quickly!"

The edge of panic terrified her, and though her muscles protested at the exertion, she ran faster, nearly overtaking Link in the process despite his longer legs. Badra made a chattering noise, which Zelda realized a moment later was actually a word, uttered through a broken, pushed through gasp.

"Masters."

Masters?

That had to be the sound of the wind now. It had become louder. They must be closer to the exit. Her heart pounded in excitement. Now she was the one pulling Link along.

A sudden whoosh—something fleshy dropped alongside Zelda. Not even sparing the breath to shriek she fell into such a sprint as she had never done before, flying towards the exit. From behind her, Badra gave a shout, but Zelda heard nothing that would indicate she had fallen. Link, however, halted quickly and looked back. They were almost there, almost to the light.

"Run ahead!" he cried.

Zelda gave one last heavy pump to her legs, flying over the last few feet out of the darkness—and into the open fresh air of night. Sandstone slid beneath her and she fell the last three feet down a small hill into a pile of what felt like sand filled with rocks. She sputtered through a face full of sand, struggling for breath.

"Link!"

For one, breathless second, a terror as she had never felt in the darkness overwhelmed her. Where was Link? What had happened? _Where was Link?!_

Then two collective cries and thumps landed on either side of her, coughing up sand as they gasped for breath. Their torches lay half dead three feet away, half smothered by sand. For a brief moment they simply breathed. Then the immensity of the relief brought them down onto their backs and bellies, clinging to the sand. Zelda stared up into the stars, bright in the black sky. But that's right, the sky wasn't black, she had decided. Purples, blues, and even greens swept across it with the stars like diamonds upon a sash. Without thinking she picked out Yeta in the sky; the Snow Maiden. Then she turned to Link and drank in his form, haggard and exhausted, but blessedly, blessedly alive. Then she listened to Badra's panting; blessedly, blessedly alive.

"Zelda! Badra!"

Running towards them and gaining distance were the rest of the Gerudos with Impa limping along behind them. She too gained Zelda's blessing of gratitude: blessedly alive! She felt her body finally relax to the point she thought the desert sands would swallow her whole. And like a soft touch of a breeze she felt Link's fingertips brush along her arm.

"I told you…I'd be with you…all the way to the end," panted Badra. "Blondies…stick together."

With a twinge of memory Zelda remembered the words Badra had sobbed in Link's cell. Smiling she turned her head to the side to her friend, who gave a shaking, weary shadow of her brilliant, beautiful grin. Zelda smiled in return. A single tear mingled with the sweat on her face.

#$#$%^%$&^*(&%$#! ! %$#%^&*&()*&^%$# #! #$#$%^%&*&^(

A grayish cloud hovered above a pink line on the limited strip of the horizon that Zelda could see. The Gerudo had led them to a spring hidden within a mass of rock which leaned over her now. As she sat upon a smooth stone in the water, watching the coming sunrise, she wearily scrubbed her skin to rid it of Hrathbern's taint. She could still feel the Redead's dry fingers upon the back of neck, no matter how hard she scrubbed. Goose bumps prickled her bare skin, for she had chosen to bathe in her skintight Sheikah underwear, which pretty much covered the basics and not much more. Anything to get the smell of death off her.

A ways a way, next to the slender, lone waterfall feeding the spring sat Link, also trying to scrub away that scent of Hrathbern and sweat. Though she washed a good distance away from him, she could still feel his eyes upon her every now and then. She wished she could be too tired to care, and in a way she was, but she couldn't deny the all too familiar heat squirming in her stomach. _Stop it,_ she kept telling herself, _wearing this in front of him isn't a big deal. I went swimming with him in my underwear before, didn't I? And I need to get used to the fact that he's my husband sooner or later._ The fact that the Sheikah undergarments covered about seventy-five percent of what her old undergarments had she tried to ignore. She took comfort in knowing Link would be too weak to wander over to her, even if he wanted to.

Sighing, she dipped herself once more into the icy, clear waters of the spring. Her long wet hair poured down her back. She took sips of the water as she washed, relishing in the cool taste. She could even taste it still: the stagnant bile that had risen as the Redeads approached.

Brushing goose bumps on her arms, she looked up to the small, dark forms of Impa and Abal standing watch at the top of the cliff. She had disagreed with Impa heartily, but she had insisted to keep watch, probably to make up for her failure in Hrathbern. Zelda sighed again. She could take care of herself.

"Um, so…"

She jumped and whirled around, twisting herself completely off her perch and into the water. Link, the supposedly oh-so-weak, stood knee deep in the pool besides her. He looked unusually flustered at her reaction. But not nearly as flustered as Zelda on seeing him. She wasn't the only one not entirely dressed.

"I'm sorry. Can I help you get up?"

Zelda glared at him. "What happened to barely being able to walk?"

A signature smirk came upon his face. "It's not the first time I've had to force myself to walk. Besides…" and catching her off guard, his smirk turned back to a familiar, soft and tender smile. "I missed you."

Despite the cold, her face managed to heat up.

"You better have," she growled, "after I had to come out to this Din-accursed place to save your sorry ass."

He chuckled. "I see you've gotten even better since I've been gone. You're sounding even more like a Gerudo. Probably shouldn't surprise me now, eh?" At this he glanced up to the shadows of Abal and Impa. The other four Gerudo slept behind them, taking turns to watch. For some reason no one had bothered to ask Zelda to take a turn at watch, and that irked her. It irked her even more how the Gerudo had all given her their sly, cat-like little grins as they organized watch duty. It's not like she was going to jump Link the moment they were alone or anything, or that she was dying to do-do what? Who did they take her for?!

When Link looked back around to find Zelda scowling angrily, he grew apprehensive.

"Oh, come on, what have I done now?"

"Relax. It's not you," she said, forcing herself to ignore his proximity as she rose to her feet. On seeing his eyes flash to her, she quickly changed her mind and dropped back down into the water. "_Will you stop it?!"_

He didn't have to ask what. "Your fault for dressing up like a Sheikah. Besides," stupid smirk, "you are my wife. Why are you bothered by it, anyways? You said you loved me, didn't you?"

"Ugh! You're as obnoxious as I remember you."

"I thought you liked that," he teased, and to make matters worse he crouched down into the water as well. Zelda could swear he knew what it did to her and took pleasure in it. His blond hair curled slightly when it was wet and stuck to his neck and shoulders, accentuating their shape as well as the curves of his face. He had a very nice face, Zelda had to admit. It was still pale as death despite his tan. It was as she had remembered it: kind, and still having a hint of boyhood clinging to the lines. For a moment she forgot that he only wore shorts and let herself feel peace. All was well. All was safe.

He noticed her sudden change in mood.

"What are you thinking?"

Zelda shrugged. "Not much, really."

His gaze was as soft and kind as ever. It made her remember that this was Link. He wouldn't do anything to her. This was the man who had married her and slept on a sofa for nearly a week. He wouldn't touch her unless she wanted him too. It was her right, and her freedom. Her discomfort melted away along with her self-consciousness.

She hugged her knees and smiled up at him. For some odd reason, his face fell. He looked away from her.

"I should let you finish," He stood. Zelda noticed his knees shaking horribly, despite his cocky words. Hrathbern had done a number on him, and it didn't surprise her in the least on remembering the story he had told her in the cell, drunk with Hrathbern's magic. Pity and concern twisted at her heart. He moved to wade away.

"Link."

He stopped. "Yes?"

"Are you going to be all right?"

"I'm supposed to be asking you that. Nayru only knows what you had to live through to find me." His shoulders slumped, and his head bowed. After a deep breath he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what? You couldn't have let those men kill off that entire village."

"For getting you to marry me. I haven't been the best for you. For a moment I had myself believing I had at least done you a service in getting you away from Jeremy, but now I've realized…I'm much, much worse." His voice trailed off until it broke as his throat closed. Seemingly frightened by his weakness, he walked off, ignoring Zelda's pained expression. On the edge of the water in an alcove of rock Zelda's tent had been set up on Impa's request. It was here he went to, grabbing a rough saddle blanket to dry himself off. The horses themselves stood at the edge of the small canyon, sleeping. He had at first argued for his sleeping outside with the animals, but Zelda wouldn't hear of it. If anyone needed the good rest, it was him, and at the time he had been too exhausted to battle her stubbornness.

The moment the tent flap closed she stood from the water. Her insides ached. For once, she thought she could fathom just how deep the pain Link experienced, but what did one say to that? What could be said to a compassionate, soft-hearted man who had watched his fellows turn into monsters? And who felt it was somehow his fault for being powerless?

Powerless…what had she wanted to hear when her mother died? When she herself felt strangely guilty for something she had no control over? It seemed almost blasphemous to try to relate to him like this. But, with deep care welling in her almost to the point of pain, she walked out of the spring and dried herself with the saddle blanket. Then she quietly entered the tent.

In the very dim light of dawn she thought she could make out his form on his side. Once she closed the flap though whatever visibility she had vanished. In such a closed, dark space with a man, she knew she should feel nervous, but somehow she didn't. Link wouldn't hurt her. Link wouldn't do anything to her that she didn't want.

"Link?"

He didn't answer. Gingerly, she felt out a space for her in the darkness and curled up beneath the layers of blankets beside him. He flinched at her touch.

"Link…" Trying to suppress a sudden urge to cry, she wrapped an arm around him, molding herself against his back. A town lit by orange fire filled her mind.

"How can you do that?" His voice shook and croaked. "You've…you've heard what I've done. I told you. I didn't think I'd ever have to, and I didn't want to. I was trying to ignore it myself."

She turned her face to the side, her cheek against the middle of his back. What could she say to him? Was there really anything she could say that would ease his pain?

She felt him curl in on himself within her arms. "Hrathbern just reminded me of what I really am. How could I have been so cruel to seek your hand when I was so undeserving of it? Why do they call me 'Hero'? I'm no hero. I'm a coward. A murderer."

"No you're not," she said. "You are the kindest man I know. Seeing so many die before you moved you to do all in your power to end it, and you did. You defeated Ganondorf. He was the one who started the war in attempts to take over Hyrule. He's the monster, not you."

"But how can you know, Zelda? Didn't you hear me? I stood by and watched as they murdered and raped that whole village. Thousands of people! Can the death of one man really make up for the blood and misery on my hands?" Finally he broke down into sobs. Again Zelda was struck with how obtuse it was to think of Link crying. Tears didn't seem the right word. Crying didn't either.

She listened to his weeping, aching more deeply than she ever had in Hrathbern. Quietly, she wondered what the Mother would have done. She had been so confident, so sure, so _powerful_ in her freedom as she had danced before her. Surly she would have known something. But even as she thought it, she got the impression that the best she could do, no matter what anyone would advise her, was speak her mind and heart; to be honest.

Wiping her own tears against his bare back, she took a steadying breath, gathering her thoughts.

"Growing up, many often said I was very wise for my age, like my mother had been. But I've never felt wise. I've never felt like I could say the right things at the right time. I feel even more so now. Right now I wish I could have all the wisdom in the world just so I could know what to say to you to ease your mind." She was shaking again, that painful, earnest shaking. "But…all I can tell you is that I love you, and…you earned it." She sighed. "Goddesses, I already sound so stupid. But can't you trust me as I trust you now? War is a terrible thing that reveals the true beasts men can be, but you didn't become that. You became something better. And…" she clung to him tightly, "I wouldn't have anyone else for my husband."

He shifted away and for a moment she thought she had failed more royally than feared. But it was only to turn to his other side and crush her to his chest. He buried his face into her wet hair. For a while he simply wept and Zelda held to him. Then, as the pink in the sky was brightening they finally drifted off into well deserved, exhausted sleep.

**Author's Note:**

**There's a poll on my profile. ^.^ Please help me learn more about what you want and vote. (see? Aren't Author's notes annoying? But really. Poll. Clicky.)**


	19. Mother's Dance & Epilogue

**Author's Note: To hear how my sister received this and other news, read the Author's Afternote at the end of this last chapter along with a special message just for you readers. Thank you so much for your time. I hope you enjoyed 'The Opal and the Genie.' **

Chapter 19: A Mother's Dance

Zelda shivered in her light ceremonial clothing, fingering the single, coppery braid from her hair. She tried to distract herself from the laughing and singing Gerudo in the courtyard with the braid, running the soft, scorpion like tail of it between her fingers. The red had only taken a very, narrow strand. The rest of her hair still shone gold.

It had been actually Izz who spotted the single streak of red hair the day after Hrathbern. She had crawled, bleary eyed from Link and the tent, just to be pounced by all four (Izz kept a distance, scowling through her black eye tattoo), to discuss her entrance ceremony to the Gerudo. At first, Zelda had protested, afraid the Gerudo had gotten the wrong idea and would prevent her from going back home to Hyrule.

"I can't agree with your tastes," said Abal, sneering, "but honestly, don't worry. The Mother is aware of all our states."

"But you have to come!" cried Hasna. "You're our sister! And you said you'd come to our tribal grounds after this. You said!"

It was just as Izz opened her mouth to protest that she spotted it. Showing the ever Gerudian lack of care for personal space, she swooped in, pushing aside her sisters, and yanked at Zelda's hair. Zelda gave an 'eep' of surprise before glaring at her. Impa, who had been standing at a distance, swiveled and came stomping over at the commotion.

"What the—"

"Look!"

The other Gerudo stared. Zelda's first streak of red had come in, gleaming a rose gold color in the late morning sunlight.

It took all five Gerudo and eventually Link crawling out of the tent to calm Zelda down. Impa glaring down at the Gerudo in agreement hadn't helped.

"I can't suddenly grow into a Gerudo!" she was saying. "I'm a princess! _A princess!_ I have a kingdom to rule! What will happen if I suddenly look like a Gerudo?"

Abal just repeated her aforementioned line of the mother being aware of all their states.

"It's probably just to remind you of her." Abal pressed, "She is a rather prideful woman and does not like being forgotten."

"Besides, if they kick you out you can always come back here." said Badra, smiling happily.

But as Zelda stood in the stone hallway, staring out into the dusty courtyard of the Gerudo village and fingering her thin, purple Gerudian garments, she still felt apprehensive. What was to be expected of her? What did these Gerudo—what did the Mother—want of her? What if the magic of the Mother spread? For it wasn't just the red hair she was worrying about. As she had gone through the ceremonial bathing with her band of five Gerudo (who all felt they had first place rights on her due to the fact they got to her first), Badra had happily pointed out the bronze patch of skin spread across her shoulder like some strange birthmark.

So it was official, now. Zelda was related to the Gerudo.

But it still made little sense to her. How did the descendents of the Mother get into the royal family? And through which side of her family did it come from? And what of the magic which made it so Gerudo could only have one son every one hundred years? Would her kingdom be displeased if she turned out only daughters who would, in turn, have only daughters?

Allowing her shoulders to slump in a long sigh, she let go of her copper braid and looked beseechingly at nothing in particular. She wished Link were here to preoccupy her with a story or two, but the Gerudo hadn't even blinked a lash in refusing him entrance. It didn't matter if he was her husband or if he was the only man in the world the Gerudo wouldn't instantly kill on the spot. The ceremony Zelda would participate in had to be one of the most sacred to the Gerudo—which meant most strictly Gerudo (and therefore female) only.

A jingle of jewelry announced the arrival of her friends behind her. Badra approached her with Hasna, bearing jewelry of precious metals and stones on their arms. They offered them to her.

"They're from the treasury." said Badra. "It's good to look your best on your leydah'mah."

Hasna nodded in agreement. Zelda's fingers found the beautiful, opal necklace at her neck. Link had yet to notice she wore it, due to the high collar of the Sheikah underwear. It reminded her, however, of the crystal pendent he still wore and which she had fingered as he slept. She looked down at the glittering jangles.

"I think I'm fine." she said.

"You sure?" asked Hasna. "Not even an anklet?"

Zelda smiled. "Yes. I'm so nervous, if I wear anything more I might trip on myself."

The two eyed the thin, flowing pantaloons and chest wrap she wore skeptically. Zelda looked down at her silk and leather slippers bashfully.

Badra shrugged. "Well, whatever you think. You ready? I think the preparations are good."

Zelda bit her lip. Badra cocked her head to the side.

"What is it?"

Zelda traced the toe of her slipper in the dirt, much as she had in her father's study on that fateful day.

"What if…what if they don't like me? The rest of the Gerudo. I am the princess of Hyrule. Last time I checked everyone in the desert hated Hyrulians, let alone the princess of them."

She gave Zelda a sad little grin and Hasna also gave her understanding, raised eyebrows.

"Zel, remember what Abal told you when we first met? We Gerudo have no loyalty to any nation. We don't want to be. We are free. We are a law unto ourselves and we relish in it. Though…we still have yet to know what to think about our King breaking such an underlying understanding among the Gerudo. It was our King that brought this hatred into the world. Even when we disowned him as such for the cruelty he showed unto other women, let alone people in general, we still feel somewhat responsible. He went beyond the usual lawlessness." Badra put a hand on Zelda hair, stroking her single, coppery braid. "If anything, Zel, they will only feel sorry. And you are one of us, now. Your background doesn't matter."

She listened and allowed herself to be appeased, but still a hard knot sat in her chest. The lacerations from the stones still stung and ached.

Abal sauntered over, followed by an aged, yet stern looking Gerudo and Impa (who had surprisingly been allowed). Impa had a curious, stony expression. Zelda wasn't sure why this placid lack of emotions was any different from Impa's usual, but somehow it seemed different. She couldn't help but smile nervously at her nursemaid. Bandages tinged with honey colored balm wrapped about her neck where the Redead had bitten.

Abal nodded to Zelda solemnly, though with the familiar coy Gerudo smirk.

"It is time. Have you chosen who will be your elder sister?"

"Elder?"

At Zelda's question Abal shot a look at Badra and Hasna, who exchanged glances.

"You didn't tell her?"

"No, I thought you had!"

"Your organization for such an important event is impressive." said Impa. The Gerudo frowned at her, even the new, elder Gerudo, who also turned disapproving eyes upon the younger two at Zelda's side.

"Who you choose for your elder sister is an important aspect to the ceremony. She should be someone among the Gerudo who you trust." said the elder, her rich, exotic accent almost over-powering,

"What will she do?" Zelda asked.

"She will lead you through the Shemesh Rikud."

Zelda knew that word from somewhere. Her nervous stomach stopped her from asking. It had come to the point where she simply wanted it to be over and done with. The desert air felt too cool against her exposed skin, and she shivered.

"Well?"

"Huh?" Zelda snapped to attention. "Oh, um…" she glanced around at the Gerudo. "I think I'll choose Badra…if that's all right with you?"

Badra positively beamed. "Of course!"

With this Badra took up Zelda's hand as though it were her own and marched her out around the corner of the fortress to the last part of the courtyard. Warm light spilled across the dusty desert ground, pounded flat by thousands of hoofs and feet. A large, brilliant bonfire came into view, surrounded by dozens of Gerudo dressed in various colors and gleaming with fine jewelry. Their hair was set loose down their back, straight, thick, and in various shades of red. Abal and the elder women, who had yet to introduce herself, led the way, calling the attention of the others to Zelda's presence being pulled along by Badra. Hasna followed with excited, though startling, yips. Several Gerudo returned their own yips. Excited chatter broke the air. Animated murmurs broke out over the strange, tall form of Impa as well, who stood at least a head taller than any other woman there. None balked at the glare of her scarlet eyes, which would on most occasions make even a crying baby go silent.

"All right, all right, clear the way." grumbled the elder.

Zelda clung onto Badra's wrist, suddenly terrified. "Badra, what are they going to make me do?"

"Oh, relax, it's not like you haven't done it before."

"Before?" Panic made her voice squeak. "_Where the hell have I ever done this before!?_"

"Shh. Just follow my lead, kay? That is what elder sisters are for, right?" Badra showed her beaming face to her before turning it back to her sisters.

Golden eyes watched her. Zelda's palms began to sweat. For a moment she thought her wrist would slip form Badra's grasp, which had dragged her into a clear ring about the bonfire. Despite her anxiety, she welcomed the hot heat of the fire upon her chilled skin.

At a gesture from the elder, Abal took a step forward, raising her arms to the crowd. As she spoke Zelda grew more apprehensive when she couldn't understand the Gerudo tongue. What was she announcing? The grand, carnival trick Zelda was about to perform? At a gesture to the side, Zelda's eyes were drawn to what she had yet to notice: a good sized group of women clutching strange horns, gleaming finger cymbals, drums, flutes, and a few strange, round stringed instruments. Her stomach dropped to her toes.

"B-badra," she whispered, "I'm not going to have to dance, am I?"

"Precisely!" she said, her happiness starting to annoy Zelda. "Don't you remember us telling you about the Shemesh Rikud? It's one of our most sacred dances."

"Should I?"

"Really, it's no big deal. I'll be right here with you the whole time."

Zelda bit her lip once more, pulling her sweaty fingers again. She would've resorted to her other nervous habit of tracing her toes along the ground, but at the moment she knew it would be far too noticeable. She didn't want the Gerudo's first impression of her to be a nervous twit.

Abal's words ended in a sharp command and all went deathly quiet. The only sound to break the stillness was the cracking and soft roaring of the bonfire. Badra tugged on Zelda's hand.

"Come on. It's time."

_What was Abal saying?_ She wanted to ask, but her voice refused to come out from its hiding place in her throat. Trying her best not to trip, she allowed Badra to lead her to the bonfire. Then, to Zelda's fright, she let go of her hand. She looked up at her in panic as the Gerudo girl made some space between them.

"Now, face me, little sister, and close your eyes for a moment."

Closing her eyes was the last thing she wanted to do this close to the fire, but she did. The heat of the fire began to warm her skin to an uncomfortable scorch. Slowly, the cold within her melted away.

A drum began to sound, like a heartbeat. The noise sent chills up Zelda's limbs and she very nearly squeaked in alarm.

"Listen to the drum. The heartbeat of the desert. Just listen, little sister."

The steady rhythm played out until her thoughts final eased into it, and her own heart rate struggled to meet the steady beat. Something within her stirred. An exotic horn, which sound was like unto a crying bird, begun to play besides it. Though it played only a single note at first, it turned to trembling, then dipped into a forlorn melody: the noise of something lonely, but beautiful. Not soon after it had begun to play a beautiful, melodic voice chimed out. Zelda could feel her own vocal chords thrumming as though wanting to sing in response. And she did. The song was a strange call to her. She could hear it now.

"Listen to the call of your sisters." said Badra. Chimes tinkled. "Now, open your eyes."

The Gerudo were still there, watching quietly and shadowed by the golden glow of the fire. Badra smiled at her, putting a hand to her ear.

"Do you feel it? The call? Our blood calls to you. Our mother has found you."

Badra lifted her hip and lifted her arm in an elegant arc, her bronze skin gleaming ever like a fine metal in the firelight. Zelda lifted her arm as well without thinking, a soothing calm taking place. She had been in this position before. But how? The too hot heat of the fire reminded her of the sun and a memory burst into her mind of the genie, dancing wildly in the desert. Her heart leapt.

Badra's arm slowly came down, and Zelda's hips tilted with her. A fiery desire blossomed within her. Hips swayed in careful ovals. Arms snaked to the keening of the horn, and forever the drums thrummed in their blood. Their hands took shapes in the air to the beseeching voice of the lone woman. Zelda became hyper-aware of the desert soil beneath her thin, silk slippers. The opal necklace bounced against her collarbone, reminding her ever of Link. She had done this before. Like a dream, she knew where to move and the forms Badra took. Her friend's smile followed her in a turn affectionately.

"You can feel it, yes?" her tone was soft, almost motherly. "This ceremony is not to test you. That was the Mother's job. This ceremony is to invite you in—with joy…and dance."

More drums burst into furious life. Horns cried into the night sky. Zils went into a flurry of tingles, and the voice's tone left the melancholy of seeking to leap into something joyful—something wild—something free.

They danced. Zelda didn't need to watch Badra anymore. The heat of the bonfire set her soul into a blaze and the music pounded in her mind. The memory of the blue sky exploded into her in a brilliant radiance of blue she had never seen before. She could feel the bark, feel the grass as she ran, feel the hot sun pressing in on her in a burning embrace. Her arms twisted, her hips bobbed, and her breasts swerved with the rest of her body. She wasn't afraid. She could feel it, the moves she had to do. She could almost hear that less than a thought sound of the Mother laughing raucously-joyfully.

She began to laugh, tossing her hands into the air, leaping about the fire. What had she been afraid of? Besides her Badra danced with her, laughing as well. Gerudo burst into trills and yelps, singing and shouting. A few more joined in, smiling at Zelda as they trapeze about the fire in a wild flurry. Though she felt hotter than ever before, she did not sweat, just as the Mother had in her dream.

She could feel each part of her and just how feminine it was. She didn't fear to exaggerate her pale curves and flick her long, golden hair. She relished in the feel. Never before had she been enraptured with her own sense of beauty. Like an unbridled, untamed horse she danced, waving her hips, shimmying, and leaping and curving about the heat.

Freedom. Wild, uncontrollable, freedom.

Hasna, Izz, Abal, and Fa twisted around her with their hair like banners about them. Their hands were raised to the sky and her, their faces glowing, even Izz's. Complete acceptance shown through them. The music filled her senses.

Tears evaporated off of her cheeks. The smile felt so wide it hurt.

Later, she would learn that Link had not paid any heed to the wishes of the Gerudo—as the Gerudo never paid heed to his—and had watched, enraptured, on a rooftop nearby, his eyes glinting as he spied the gleaming opal around her neck.

!#%(%*&*^%$# $%^&*()&^%$# $%^&*(&^%$#%^&*(

Link, Zelda, and Impa arrived at Hyrule castle sunburnt, thirsty, and all but drooling for a bath and a soft bed. Zelda had just dropped the reins of her horse into the stable boy's hand when a hoard of soldiers came careening around the corner.

"Princess!" they all cried out, almost in unison. "Is it truly you?"

Five minutes later, all three of them stood before a very displeased, very disgruntled king.

"Have you any idea the trouble you have caused this kingdom, young lady?"

Zelda traced the tiles with the end of her boot. Black, down, white, up, and back again. She could feel Link tense besides her and Impa watching coolly as ever.

"No good-bye, no note, and Din damn it—into the desert itself? What were you thinking Zelda?"

"I'm sorry, daddy, but if I had left a note you would've chased after me and stopped me."

"Damn right I would have!"

Zelda glanced up to find her father's face the color of plums and his beard practically bristling with indignation.

"This was lunacy! Haven't I taught you anything? Couldn't you have send one of the royal guard to rescue Link? Why did you have to do it yourself?"

"Because it was pass the Gerudo grounds. You heard the men—"

"Then why didn't you send Impa! Zelda, I thought you were smarter than this!"

"Father, I'm sorry."

"Uh, sir—"

"Silence, Link! I don't want to hear it." She could hear his breath whistling through his flared nostrils. She hadn't heard him this angry in years. "And for the love of Nayru, what are you wearing? Are those Sheik clothes, Impa?"

Impa bowed her head."My apologies, your highness."

"Sir—"

"By hell, what man?"

Link's voice didn't stutter once. "You're daughter was very noble in her actions. None other would the Gerudo have accepted and only because of the Gerudo's help am I even able to stand here before you."

There was a startled silence.

"The Gerudo?" blustered the king, "You're telling me my daughter had to deal with the likes of the Gerudo? By Farore…"

"They're actually not that bad, father."

"Not that bad?" her father stared at her as though she were crazy. "Zelda, those beastly women are not just simple thieves! They're killers, whores, barbarians—"

"No they are not!" she exclaimed, tracing marble tiles forgotten.

The great storm Zelda knew so well billowed within his eyes; his eyebrows once more like storm clouds.

"Oh really?"

"Have you even ever met a Gerudo?"

"Yes, and I almost nearly died."

Another awkward pause came with this answer. The king took full advantage of this, waving an angry palm to the doorway.

"Go. Get bathed and dressed. You will have some serious explaining to do. Oh, and Link," he nodded his still red face to the dusty and sweaty Link. "I am very glad you are back. Please don't mistake my displeasure with Zelda's actions with displeasure at your safety."

"Not at all sir."

"And Impa?"

"Yes?"

"Keep an eye on them. Don't allow either of them to leave the castle."

She bowed. Zelda thought she could spy one of her sly, straight smiles being flashed her way, but her face couldn't be stonier.

When they reached their room, Zelda wanted to slam the door shut like a child, but gingerly bumped it closed with the heal of her hand. She stared at the wood for a long moment, the anxieties of the days before returning. She reached up to finger the hidden braid of rose-gold hair.

"Wow, there's a bath already to go! I didn't think the palace maids could work so quickly!"

"They do that." She turned and begun to unwrap the remains of her head wrap, her mind elsewhere. The rest of her still golden hair fell out in a matted, fuzzy braid. Sure enough, a large, deep wooden tub took up the space in front of the fireplace, steam rising lazily off the surface. Link sat on a trunk at the end of their four poster bed to take off his dusty boots.

"You all right?"

Zelda continued to finger her skinny, lone red braid. "I don't know. I just…don't know how to take, or how others will take it, if they find out I'm related to the Gerudo. You heard my father. That's how all of Hyrule thinks." she bit her lip. She hated how her voice quaked oh so slightly. "I don't even know how Gerudo blood got into the royal family."

"Well," he set his boots aside. "You need to stop thinking it as 'the Gerudo' and just as the bloodline of that one woman hundreds of years ago. One of your ancestors with this woman's blood could have become a rich merchant and married a noble woman, therefore gaining her estate and title. Then it would've been easy to, at some point, marry into higher and higher nobility till, finally, the royal family itself. And as to what everyone will think, probably not best to try it out. And your father," he looked her straight in the eye, very seriously. "He loves you, Zelda. No matter what he discovers about your ancestors, he loves you. That will never change."

Zelda closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I guess…that makes sense."

She heard the creak of the trunk as he stood from it. His arms wrapped about her waist and he pulled her to him. Even dirty and smelly from three days hard travel, she could feel herself melting at the feel of his chest as he tucked his nose into her matted hair. She didn't want to imagine how she must smell.

"And I will always be here, Zelda, no matter what happens."

She clenched the cloth of his tunic into her hands.

"Now!" he lowered his lips to her ear to flutter and tickle it as he talked. "I was wondering…since we both need a bath, would you like to…?"

Heat rose up to her face faster than ever before. Before she could answer, before she could even breathe, a heavy knock came to the door. Link gave a loud, frustrated sigh as he released her and wearily tromped to the door.

"What?" he called through the wood, none-too kindly.

"The king wishes to recall you immediately to hear your report, your majesty."

A loud thunk issued as a result of Link dropping his forehead to the door.

"Tell him I'll be there soon." His voice sounded as though he were trying very hard not to groan. Zelda smiled. Link didn't bother to wait until the footsteps faded away to burst out, "Why didn't he just ask for it while I was there? Or even better, later this evening?"

"My father remembers nothing when he's angry. And he's also not one to wait patiently. I think he said it was because he gets overly excited, or something along the lines. Don't worry, he did the same thing for me when he told me I was going to marry you."

Link hit his forehead onto the door again and grumbled, "I don't want to go."

Zelda couldn't help but laugh. "You sound like a child. Where did the mature war hero go?"

"The brave war hero got melted away by a beautiful wife." He looked back at her and pouted—as manly as a pout could be. "Which the world refuses me over and over. Am I to constantly be tempted by you and never have you?"

If she thought the heat in her face had gone away, she was wrong.

"You're being very forward. Besides, I'm dressed as a boy, what is there to tempt you?"

For a moment, he merely looked at her. Then a dangerous, sly sort of smirk broke across his face.

"Oh, I've seen you much otherwise, I assure you."

Zelda scowled at him. She did not appreciate the smirk. He probably was trying to make a big deal out of seeing her in her nightgown and underwear, though she vowed to herself that if he spoke a single mocking word of her Sheikah undergarments his jaw wouldn't work right for a week.

Link shoved his shoes on and put on his belt with an angry snap. Zelda glanced at the bathtub in relief. She was half grateful of her father's impatience. At least now she didn't have to decide on displaying her womanly visage to a naked man…and vice versa.

"By the way, love," said Link as he opened the door. "You're a marvelous dancer."

Before it could occur to her what exactly he meant, he was far down the hall. Rubbing her hands over her face, she vengefully locked the door and slid out of the rest of her clothes. The water felt perfect-right on the edge before being too hot. Her sunburns stung with it's touch.

Her father's anger would blow over eventually, but still what he had said about the Gerudo lingered. Slowly, she unwrapped her small, red braid in the water with the rest of her hair. Would anyone even notice the new, red streak? She glanced at the bronze mark splattered over her shoulder and sighed. She missed the desert all ready.  
And what of Link? She glanced at the spot where he had left his ugly green cap. For a brief moment she thought of hiding it from him, but felt too weary to put forth the effort. He had been quieter over the past few days, more cautious of her, though she felt that some kind of barrier had been breached between them. When would Hrathbern and the war come up again? When the nightmares started? Or had they already? She simple did not know. While scrubbing her feet she thougtht she could hear voices in the royal courtyard outside her balcony, but shrugged it off. It wasn't till she had gotten dressed and was brushing her hair did she finally recognized one of the voices. Gut twisting, she threw on her housecoat and pulled back the curtain. The stones of the balcony felt extra cold against her feet.

Two stories below her balcony a couple stood, intimately wrapped in each others arms beneath the myrtle tree. Her heart did not leap as she had thought it would when she recognized the black curls of Jeremy. It did, however, squeeze tight when she recognized the gleaming, grey-blond hair of the girl in his arms.

The other.

At first she could only stare, confused by the strange pain wrapping about her chest and squeezing out her breath. Then, in a rush of fiery fury she grabbed the nearest heavy object and flung it down at them-a pot smashed mere inches away from where Jeremy stood. The couple flinched apart.

"Oy!" she shouted, "Find a room! What made you think my window would be a good place to start, eh?!"  
Jeremy gaped at her, bruises from Link's beating still bright and evident upon his face. The Other put her hands to her mouth at the sight of the princess.

Zelda reached for another pot.

"I know what you're pulling, Jeremy, now get your ugly face out of my sight!"

His mouth flopped for words. His blond girl curled up in his arms for protection, frightened eyes upon the mad princess. Before he could get out a coherent sentence, however, his eyes fell upon something besides Zelda and his face went a ghastly grey, visible even in the dying light of twilight. Without a moments hesitation he yanked the blond girl out of his arms and fled, beating bushes back and ignoring the protesting cries of the Other.

"That's right, jack ass! You better run!" she waved her pot madly. Her eyes burned horribly and it had gotten hard to see. A warm hand plucked the pot from her grasp. She froze at the breath tickling the back of her neck.

"Now, now, princesses don't cuss out loving couples in front of her window. What could happen to her reputation?"

"How did you get in? I thought I locked the door?" She stepped around Link, not bothering to look at him. She didn't want him to see the tears building in her eyes. It hadn't felt good to yell Jeremy down. But her pride wouldn't allow Jeremy to see how much he had hurt her by waving around the Other where she could see. She didn't even know why it hurt. She had Link now, didn't she? She must really be some kind of player-a kind of whore.

Grabbing her hair brush, she flopped herself on the bed and preoccupied herself with brushing her hair in front of her face. The first, hot tear dripped from her chin onto her lap.

"Though, I won't say Jeremy didn't deserve that." he said. She could hear him throwing off his boots and slipping off his tunic. "But really, we're at the castle now. You might regret it. I don't care how you act, but I know you would. Not unless you want to be known as the Rogue Queen of Hyrule-oh, Din, that'd be fun. I take it back, can we be rogue rulers?"

She didn't answer him. More tears were rolling behind her hair and she was fighting back the urge to sniff.

"Zelda?"

His bare feet made soft pats on the floor as he made his way over. She bowed her head and tried to look engross in her brushing. The bed creaked as he sat next to her. He didn't say anything at first, just watching her brush. Then, she couldn't hold it back anymore, and sniffed.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. Don't bother."

"He did something. Or did I do something? Are you still not happy with me?"

"No! No, that's not the case at all." the fact that she had made him think such a thing tore at her. She shouldn't be feeling like this. She shouldn't be acting like this.

"Then he had to have done something. What is it? You can tell me." When she didn't answer right away, he said, "Would a story help?"

Zelda sniffed once more, dropping her brush to her lap. She thought carefully before she spoke.

"She was with him."

"She?"

"The other girl. The other he said he had chosen me over, but didn't have to. The other he said he was in love with."

She could feel Link bristled. "Are you saying that he used her to...gah, forget about him. He isn't worth your time. And the next time I'll see him I'll give him an extra punch for you, okay?"

But still, Zelda didn't know what to think. She thought she had left Jeremy behind in that final dance with the Gerudo. What had happened to the elation she had felt? When would she be completely rid of Jeremy at last? When would she be truly free from guilt and the shadow of regret?

Then she felt the warm hand of Link's upon hers and his lips upon her ear. He smoothed her damp hair back and each touch eased the strange eyes were as blue as that sky above the birch tree. She took a shuttering breath.

"Link?"

"Yes?"

"Will you...tell me a story?"

He smiled at her, a friendly, soft and tender thing. He pulled her onto his lap to sit against his undershirt, and beneath his wild hair she could see the scar of Hrathbern, angular, purple, but faint. Leaning his head upon hers, he begun.

"In the sky there is thought to be nine kingdoms, each kingdom higher and more powerful than the one below them..."

**Epilogue**

Link heaved a sigh, allowing the handful of documents to slide into his lap.

"This is impossible. I'm not cut out for this."

Across from him, the grizzled king of Hyrule lowered his own papers to give his son-in-law a raised, bushy eyebrow. The king's study was aglow with afternoon light.

"Nonsense." He grumbled. "You've made my daughter plenty happy. I think you're perfectly cut for it."

Link shook his head and put a hand to his face, scrunched in dismay. "If that was all to kingship, I'd be brilliant. But no, this?" he shook the wad of papers without lifting his other hand. "I don't understand how this place keeps running under this much hassle. Apple prices affecting hay prices? Thieving guilds? Death Mountain eruptions? I thought kings were suppose to be rolling around in gold and luxuries without having to lift a finger—yeah," he dropped his hand. "Yeah, what happened to that delusion?"

The king chuckled. "What a delusion in deed. But no fear, lad. You'll get use to it in time, and so will your family. I remember my little girl would come and sit by me for hours at a time while I did my paperwork. It gave me some of my sweetest memories." A sly, happy smirk came to the king's face. "As will hopefully your little girl."

Link lifted his head. On seeing the king, his face reflected the happy smirk.

"Oh no, that sweet thing? With the parents she has she's more likely to be tearing off her skirts in a fling for freedom and sticking swords into trees."

"And getting lost in forests." Added the king, his amusement growing.

Link laughed. "Oh yes. And demanding that fairies are real."

"Better enjoy it while she's a babe then."

"Indeed, indeed."

With his belly rolling lightly with withheld chuckles, the king leaned back into this chair and lifted up his papers once more. He gave Link a fond glance before his eyes turned to the charts and notes of grain income.

The happy smile didn't leave Link's face, however. His eyes glittered. For a moment, he nearly forgot the papers in his hands and the piles more besides his chair. The little girl the king referred to had been born only two weeks previous, and the high still clung to him. The very thought of the little bundle, her small pink arms and legs reaching and stretching, filled him with a honey like syrup of joy that refused to leave for hours. But more warming than his firstborn had been the look on Zelda's face as she had received her daughter for the first time. Though weary, pale, and sweaty with labor, she had never been so beautiful. She glowed with motherhood, and he couldn't take his eyes away. The thought brought to him a familiar sense of amazement at his circumstances. Had he truly married her? Had he truly just made a child with her? Surely it had to be too good, to heavenly, to be true.

He knew he probably looked like an idiot with his goofy grin to the messenger that came in a few minutes later. The man, dressed in the royal purple and blues of the royal family, bowed and offered the letter.

"I was told to give this to you around this time, your highness. From the Princess."

Curious, Link took the roll of paper. The king peeked around his papers curiously. Any distraction, even for one who had grown use to the work, was a good one. The older man watched as Link's eyes traveled down the page and the silly smile wipe off his face to reveal a look of horror. To the king's alarm he jumped to his feet, throwing down the letter.

"Prepare my horse."

The messenger blinked. "Sire?"

"_Now!_"

The poor man leapt at the command and scrambled out the door, Link hot on his heels. The last thing the king caught before he vanished without even a polite good-bye was:

"Damn it, Zelda, you can't take a newborn into the desert!"

Though faintly displeased with his son-in-law's lack of decorum, the king couldn't help the belly-rocking laugh. It shook his entire frame down to the feet of his chair.

_Sweet thing indeed. _He thought. And, still laughing, he abandoned his papers onto the pile besides him and turned to the windows, where the sunshine poured through.

"Ah, Vivian," he murmured, "don't you remember me having to chase after you so?"

And as though in response, a breeze ran through, flickering leaves across the window. The king smiled warmly, folding his hands across his broad chest. He felt more satisfied and pleased with himself than he ever had.

He continued his conversation to the window. "I'm quite the matchmaker, dear. Maybe I should make it a hobby of mine, no?"

And he laughed once more, trailing into lanes of memories as he listened to the distant chaos of Link sending the castle into an uproar. He had no doubt Link would find Zelda, nor did he fear for the safety of his daughter and granddaughter. For the man he had chosen was a war hero, and if any man could protect his wild, unrestrainable daughter, it was him.

END

**Author's AfterNote: I hope you guys enjoyed this, my sister loved this. ^.^ It totally turned her into a Zelda fan where she wasn't one before. She doesn't even care much for stories, but she read this all in one sitting and has become strangely more spunky than ever. It's enthralling to watch. Thank you for putting up with my very, very rough draft of this story. Please, leave a review. It will help me know what I am doing well and what I need to do to clean this up. Also, stay in touch! I already have a plan for my next fanfiction. :3 Oh, and if you feel this is good enough for other people to read, please favorite it too. ^.^ I will bow to you a million times. **

**If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to look into my other stories: 'Fantiality', my first fanfiction, is about two best friends who get sucked into the Legend of Zelda game just to find it's not all that it is cracked up to be-nor is it just a game. In this story imagination collides, assumptions are overturned, and sometimes friends just have a different idea of the future than you. Also, there is 'Luminescence,' a story of a mysterious mute, winged girl who falls into Link's arms, dedicated to making him happy, when all he wants is to go back to twilight and run as a wild wolf once more-for it's hard to find your place in the world when no one can recognize who you are anymore, let alone yourself. **

**Thanks again! You encourage me to keep searching the world for stories to tell. And remember, you always have the power to choose and the freedom to be who you want to be. **


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